


The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse

by Montreat11



Series: The Chronicles of the Dark One [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 219
Words: 480,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22146391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Montreat11/pseuds/Montreat11
Summary: What does it take to bring about the Darkest Curse ever created? Skill, foresight, knowledge, magic, and, most important of all, power. 3rd in the Dark One Chronicles, a series that examines the life of Rumpelstiltskin. This fiction features everything that happens to Rumple in the Enchanted Forest from Baelfire's departure to the casting of the Dark Curse. R/R.
Relationships: Belle & Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Milah, Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Queen of Hearts | Cora/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Series: The Chronicles of the Dark One [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1360273
Comments: 398
Kudos: 59





	1. It Starts

The sky was burning.

He supposed from there on the ground it looked like an ordinary sunset to those around him. The clouds were pink and orange and red, but he knew the carefully trained observer would notice that there was a color missing required to make it truly an "ordinary" sunset. Purple. There was not a hint of blue in those clouds. On the contrary, the black and gray speckling them might even seem like perhaps a storm would roll in that night. But he knew the difference, and he smiled up at it, proud of what he'd done.

"No more beans," the little blue witch had once told him; no beans, no spell, no way to get from this world to the World Without Magic but the hint of a curse. In the last year, he had searched the realm and not managed to find a single reference to any curse that was so powerful as to do that!

But he never trusted anything a fairy said. They all worked under their "Mother Superior's" orders and so nothing that came from any of their mouths could be trusted. Which was why he hadn't let something like "there are no more beans in this world" stop him from searching. It may have taken him a year, but he'd finally found a beanstalk, one of the few left in their world, and climbed it to the top. And what had he found but a colony of giants…and nothing else.

"No beans," they'd cried. "We haven't managed to grow any for centuries." Fearful of him, they'd taken him to the fields atop the clouds where the beans used to grow, and what stared back at him was nothing but a barren, empty field. Well then, if they couldn't be of any use to him anymore, what was the point? He'd set the entire village on fire before he left and then used his magic to rot and whither that beanstalk so that it fell, and there truly was no escape for them up there. If they'd lied to him and had beans, well now they'd regret that decision. If they were truthful and didn't have beans…well, he couldn't very well risk the fact that one day they might crack their problem open and leave others with the ability to realm jump when he couldn't. What was the point in that? And besides, what purpose did the giants have if they didn't have beans to tend to? The way he saw it, he was sparing them meaningless lives.

As he turned his back and walked away from the smell of burnt flesh and rotting vegetation, his mind was already beginning to move ahead, to focus on a new strategy. He was certain that he held even more firm in his belief that the Blue Fairy had been wrong. There were beans still left in this world. He just had to find them! Or a realm jumper, or that blasted curse he'd been searching for!

He paused for a moment as his stomach twisted into knots. It often did whenever he thought about the beans and the curse and a way back to Baelfire. A year of searching, a year since he'd been by his son's side, a year since he'd made the worst mistake of his life…that was always when the fear slithered up inside of him and threatened to take hold. What could happen to a boy Bae's age in a year? What could happen in a world where there was no such thing as magic? Without a father to protect him?

No.

He wasn't going to do this anymore. He wasn't going to wonder or worry because they took too much energy; energy he could use to find Baelfire instead of grieving him too early. He would find his son. There was no question about that. He only wondered how and when. He was the Dark One, he could do anything. Though, sometimes, he acknowledged that his curse, which so often felt like a balloon, carrying him up into a sky of limitless possibilities, could also be an anchor weighing him down.

He'd barely begun to walk onward again when he felt a familiar tug. It was a pull on his soul that he hated and loved, resented and was thankful for all at the same time. It was a summoning. Someone was trying to call him, a weak individual, by the feel of the magic. A year ago, he would have ignored a summons like this, but then he'd also believed that the path to finding Baelfire and joining him would be quick and simple. As much as he hated it, he'd learned that in this predicament, it was better to be patient and cautious rather than unreasonably ignorant. Over the course of the last year, he'd come to find that not only was the magic of the Dark One useful for finding his son, but the dealings that came with it were useful for distraction during times like these. Instead of clinging to the sorrow of missing magical beans and knots in his stomach, a summoning at least gave him something to focus on.

And so he found that long chord the amateur sorcerer had created between them in his summoning, wrapped his hands around it, pulled back and-

Oh! Sorceress! A she...

"APPEAR NOW O DARK ONE! DO NOT HIDE YOURSELF FROM-"

"Well, there's no need to shout, Dearie!"

The woman on the other side of the fire jumped, opening her eyes to take him in as he cast quick glances around, learning his surroundings. He was in a temporary building, a tent of some kind. Dirt floors, knick-knacks pressed against the sides, fire in the center, which only served to make it swelteringly hot, and of course, the woman across from him. She was barely taller than the pedestal she stood behind, her hair was dirty and clumped together, dirt was smeared over her face, and her glasses magnified her eyes so that she had a bug-like appearance. The hump on her back didn't help that, of course, and the shuddering she was now doing only made her look more like an insect. If he was a gambler, as his father had once been, he would have been willing to bet she was the town witch. But if the magic that came through her summons and the way she'd been shouting for him was any indication, she wasn't very good at it. Odd. And a shame, really. Physically, she fit the role perfectly.

"You called," he pointed out as she gathered her arms closer together and moved from behind her pedestal. "Now presenting The Dark One, at your service!" With a flourish of his arms, he swept into a wide bow that so often confirmed they'd called the right person but also served as false assurance that he was friendly. It was a nice trick he'd learned. "May I have the name of the one who called me?"

Finally, the woman took a step forward and let her straight spine relax a bit. She smirked as she shook her head. "I'm no fool, I know how precious a name can be, and I won't be giving it to you."

"Oh, shame, shame, shame…I don't do business with those who won't do business with me. And for those who waste my time-"

"It's not my name you should be interested in, but another! He's the one you want, not me!"

"I'll be the judge of that. Who exactly is this 'he' we are discussing?" he inquired. It might be something, a worthy distraction worth following up on, or it might be nothing. He'd never know until he had a name.

"A merchant by the name of William Smee."

"William Smee…" The name was foreign to him but not worthless. No name was worthless. Only people.

"He's a trader." All of a sudden, the woman moved a quarter way around the tent and picked up a small delicate yellow flower from a table. "He travels all over, but whenever he passes through, he always brings me butter blossoms! Rare, from the mountains of the south. They're perfect for working spells of chance."

Now that was a useful bit of information. But as for this Smee, he'd rather have the butter blossoms…

"And what good will this William Smee be to me?"

"I assure you, Sir, I have no idea."

He stared at the woman, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her. If it wasn't that her oddness reminded him of one of his aunt's he probably would have. It was lucky that she had innocent and blank eyes behind those glasses. There was nothing he hated more than time-wasters.

"Then why summon me here?" he questioned through gritted teeth. But as he turned to walk out the door, her hand caught his own, and he quickly pulled it from her grasp. "How dare-"

"Please, Sir, he's looking for you!"

"Who?!"

"William Smee! He asks about you every time he visits."

"About me?"

"About the Dark One! He says you need him."

"Me? Need him? A merchant? Are you sure it wasn't the other way around?"

"I know it sounds crazy, sir, but he does."

"In what way? Nothing and no one is stronger than I am! What can he give me that I can't fetch away for myself?"

"I don't know, Sir. I simply know that the last few times I've seen him, he's asked if there have been any sightings of the Dark One nearby. I always tell him 'no.'"

And yet here he was before her now with no William Smee in sight. He wasn't exactly sure who this woman was, but one thing was for sure, she wasn't exactly a planner. Or was she? Within his cloak, he could feel his dagger resting against his chest as it should be. The last thing he needed was for this William Smee to emerge from hiding and take the blade from him. He'd never get back to Baelfire that way.

"Did he ask you to summon me?"

"Oh, no!" The threat passed. This time he did roll his eyes. She was neither a planner nor a talented witch. How had she gotten this far?

"Then perhaps you should summon me again the next time he comes around! Then we can meet, have a talk, make a deal. But until then-"

"Oh, but he's leaving for the mountains again in a few days and when I found the spell in my new book to summon you…I figured, 'why not?'"

Why not? He was the most feared and respected creature in this realm, and she thought "why not"? On a whim? No…there was innocence in her eyes, but for just a flash of a second there wasn't. There was more to her story. And he was dying to find out. She'd hooked him...

"Oh, I think there is more to it, Dearie! What did you hope to gain from this little meeting? Tell me…when two people both have something the other wants, a deal can always be struck! What do you hope to gain from a meeting between the Dark One and William Smee?"

The air went out of the poor woman's lungs. She looked defeated. "Please, it's just…he's been looking for you everywhere and I thought that if I was successful at arranging a meeting between the two of you and he proved to be useful then…there might be some kind of prize in it for me."

"A prize…"

For wasting his time? For summoning him to schedule someone else potentially wasting his time? Not likely. Still, if this Smee truly had been asking about him everywhere, telling people that the Dark One needed him, he could be someone he needed to know. Or needed to kill. One or the other. No matter which it was sure to bring him some kind of entertainment, at least for an hour or so. And he was the most powerful creature in the realm, what harm could a meeting be with a simple merchant too dull to summon him himself?

"Tell this Smee that I'll meet him in your tavern tomorrow at sunset, that should be plenty of time to let him know and as for you…your prize is your life. Keep it today, but summon me again tomorrow over nothing, and you shall not be so lucky again."

For good measure, he glanced over at the pedestal she'd been standing behind, the place where the book she'd been reading was still perched, and with barely any energy at all, he set it ablaze. She jumped, and dropped the flower in her hands as she slapped them to her mouth, looking on in horror and terror. That was the reaction he'd wanted from her all along. He'd learned how to conduct his business over the years: he presented himself in the beginning as friendly, then ended the conversations with a reminder of who he truly was. This would do it for the old woman. He reached down to grab the discarded butter blossom. If it meant so little to her…

"This is for my time. Forget that spell!" he growled, before using his magic to take him far away from that place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! For those of you that are just checking out this fiction, welcome! For those of you who are a fan of The Dark One Chronicles, welcome back! I hope you'll enjoy this fiction. It's the 3rd in The Chronicles of the Dark One, a series that is an attempt at an accurate portrayal of Rumple's perspective during the Once Upon a Time series. This fiction features everything that happened in the Enchanted Forest from after Baelfire has left the realm up to the moment that the Dark Curse has been cast. 
> 
> The Dark One Chronicles is meant to be a companion series with my previously released series The Moments Series, which explores Once Upon a Time from Belle's perspective. This means that everything you read in the Chronicles where Belle is concerned will show up in Moments as well, it is just told from a different point of view. If you'd like to see Belle's chapters from her perspective, The Dark One Chronicles: The Dark Curse is the companion story to both Moments Lost and Moments Known and Unknown! You can find it by checking out my profile.
> 
> If you enjoy this fiction, please comment or leave kudos! I always enjoy those wonderful gems waiting for me in my inbox and I love writing back to thank you personally for reading! It helps me know that I'm doing a decent job! Peace and Happy Reading!


	2. An Assessment of the Sexes

Their tavern was just as sad as the rest of their pitiful little town. There was nothing special or unique about it. It was exactly the same as every other tavern he'd been in since he'd become this creature. Which was how he knew it would be the perfect place to meet a stranger who claimed the Dark One had need of him. The dark and dampness of the business at least gave him some bit of comfort as he strolled over to a private table farthest from the door and sat down. Vultures. All barmaids were vultures, and they were on him as though he'd only just died yesterday.

"Sir, what can I…"

He removed the cloak from his head, and instantly she choked on her words, eyes rounding at the sight of him.

"What…what can I get you?" she asked in a much softer tone.

"Ah…nothing for me, Dearies, but my company, if he arrives, will have some of your strongest ale!" he pronounced. Alcohol wasn't good for much, but a loose-lipped meeting was certainly better for him. Besides, he'd only be throwing away his money if he got something for himself. He'd noticed since losing Bae that alcohol had little effect on him in this form.

"Are…are you sure?" the barmaid asked, suddenly getting the courage to offer a small smile and tilt her hip in his direction. It reminded him of Ava, the woman who had once tried to seduce him so he'd make her his "queen". "Is there anything else I can help you with." It sounded like something Ava too. But he was quite sure that he didn't need what the wench was offering — filthy town.

"Quite."

She left with only a single glance thrown back at him over her shoulder. Women. He understood entirely why half of them shrank away from him in fear, but he was clueless as to why the other half eyeballed him like he was a roast turkey, and they were starving. He hadn't a single interest in what they were after. Not at the moment, at least. Not until he got back to Baelfire, then perhaps some of those old desires might be permitted to come to the surface again. Although, after a year of searching for his answer, he was positive that getting to Baelfire also meant surrendering his power; that meant gaining a limp. He couldn't be sure that women would continue to look at him this way when he was no longer the Dark One, weak and nearly as pitiful as this tavern.

Many people came and went as he sat there in that tavern contemplating the mind of the "fairer sex", but he knew the second the man he was looking for came in. Timidly he looked around, and when his eyes finally fell on him in the back, he noted the swallow that made his throat bob up and down. As he got closer, he smelled distinctly of fear, just like so many did when they came into contact with him for the first time and weren't prepared for the sight of him.

"It really is you," he stated with wide eyes as he sat down at the table. "The Dark One, in the flesh. Or…whatever that is."

He managed to restrain himself from rolling his eyes only by keeping them cast down at the table and avoiding Smee's gaze. He'd been looking for him so long, that was the best he'd come up with? He had a hard time believing this man had anything he could ever want when he approached him with stupidity like that.

"You've gone to a lot of trouble to meet me. You better hope I agree it's worth my time."

"I've heard you'd been looking for something. And, as luck would have it, I'm a man who trades some hard to find objects."

Perhaps he'd been wrong about the man. He'd spoken quickly just now, but it didn't have the same cadence that fear had. It had the tone of necessity. He'd spoken to move things along. And better yet, as the woman from the bar brought a stein of ale toward their table, William Smee got suddenly silent. A quick glance told him Smee was eyeing her with suspicion and unwilling to talk in front of her. Perhaps he'd underestimated him. It seemed the man knew how to hold his tongue around others. At last, someone with a brain. That was a lifesaving skill in his line of work.

"Like a bean?" he muttered, once the woman moved away. He'd whispered it really drawing his head closer to his own and cupping his hand around his mouth to block the sound from even potentially getting out into the crowd. "A magic bean that can transport you between worlds."

He had his attention before out of curiosity, but now he possessed it out of necessity. The Dark One was an experienced deal maker. He'd been doing it since long before even his own parents had been born and he knew that sometimes offers were false and even worse, sometimes they were traps. That he should be summoned to a strange woman's hut and told of this man's need to meet him, and that he had the one thing in the world he needed more than anything, was suspicious all on his own. The phrase "too good to be true," came to mind. He couldn't seem too interested.

"I've been told, they no longer exist in this land," he pointed out.

Smee leaned forward, his eyes wide. "Not in this land, no," he admitted. "But the ships that dock here often return from far off lands with treasures they don't always understand."

"And yet, you do?" he mocked. This man with a red floppy hat…he understood what they didn't? It was difficult to believe, and yet here he was. It was for Bae. Anything else and he would have left already. But if there was hope he could get him a bean that could take him the Baelfire, what choice did he have but to stay and listen?

"It's my job. As is knowing the rumors of who might pay the highest price for said treasures."

Rumors indeed…he'd been incredibly careful not to let many know what he'd been searching for. The fact that this stranger knew what he wanted most of all without any familiarity with him was disturbing. He'd have to find the source of these…rumors. If they were true, of course…

"And what rumors could they be?"

"That you were once a great coward, but that you became the Dark One to overcome that and protect the, uh, son who you lost, despite all-"

He had to summon his magic and use it to limit the air getting into his lungs to stop him from talking. A fool's brain buried beneath a wise talker. He should have known. William Smee must have had some kind of familiarity with his former village. That must be where the rumors he'd heard had come from because he could think of no where else he'd get information like that. He'd have to do something about that. And about…this.

"It's not nice to spread rumors!" he snapped loudly, so the entire bar could hear him, just in case a single person had heard him _._ Best to stick to business! "The bean – where is it?"

"I don't have it," he rasped out, with his own hand around his neck as if it could help him in some way. If he'd just lied to him, there was nothing that could help him. "But I can get it, I swear!"

He was begging. But he'd also said the magic words. And so with that, he relinquished his hold on Smee's throat and sat back, trying to look just as disinterested as he had when they'd first started. All the while, inside, he was nearly leaping for joy. He had a lead on a bean, an assurance they did exist! Forget the curse he'd been worried about finding; he was about to prove that Blue Bitch wrong and join his son!

"You haven't heard my price," Smee commented after the coughing fit he'd barely noticed had passed.

Price. What was that word to him anymore? He'd heard every other rumor about him, had he not heard the one about gold?

"I spin straw into gold. Price shouldn't be a problem."

"I don't want money," he insisted quickly. "I want eternal life."

He let out a loud, obnoxious laugh that he hoped passed along the message of just how ridiculous his request was. Smee knew what he wanted, he'd give him that, but he didn't want it enough. He wasn't desperate for it, and that made him no threat to his blade, only his comfort. There was no spell for eternal life, not one that wasn't a curse at least. There was a spell to keep an individual young, which could go on a lifetime, but it needed to be repeated and reset constantly. That would require keeping Smee in his life forever, and if he got the bean and he left, he wouldn't be able to fulfill the deal. But there was something else, something close to his request that a man like Smee might accept.

"Only the Dark One has life eternal. So, you want more, son. What I can do…what about youth? Spin the clock back till you're a little boy again?"

He could see his mind working behind his eyes. It was reassuring. If he was considering the bargain, then he'd been right. He wanted eternal life for the novelty of it, not out of necessity. He had nothing to fear of him.

"Close enough. Deal!" he agreed just a bit too eagerly. He wasn't desperate enough for eternal life, but he was betting that he would be desperate not to meet an untimely fate. A little motivation for getting that bean couldn't hurt.

"But remember – you fail to deliver, I spin the clock forward, and turn you into dust."

He understood. He could see it in his eyes, and in the way he pulled his hat on and rose from the table to get to work. "Thank you. Thank you!"

He was gone quickly. He liked that. His assessment of William Smee was that he wasn't exactly the brightest burning candle he'd ever met, but he seemed to be a savvy enough businessman and he had managed to get the butter blossoms for the old lady. Probably he was good at his trade and little else. But he knew better than to get his hopes up. After all he'd had more than a few leads on magic beans since Bae had gone away, and each and every one had failed. He knew better now than to count his chickens before they hatched, or in this case, count the beans before they were sitting in his hand.

"You sure you don't want anything?" the barmaid questioned, coming up to him but staying a safe distance away.

He'd been about to vanish, to simply leave her staring at his empty chair when he heard a voice that rang out in his ear and grabbed his attention. It was a familiar voice. Someone he recognized but couldn't place until-

He glanced over in the direction of the sound, and the glance became a shocked stare. Black clothes, earring, elaborate beard…he recognized that voice, and now he knew why. It was because the last he'd heard that voice he'd been quaking so hard in his boots he hadn't been able to move and watched helplessly as he stole away his wife. Killian Jones. The pirate who'd taken Milah.

He watched now as he walked into the bar without fear of conviction like so many pirates in this town did after they'd paid the lawmen. "Where's my beer?!" he questioned with a joyful smile on his face. A joyful smile…a joyful smile like the one he had stolen from Baelfire when he'd taken his mother. If he'd never taken Milah…

"You know, I suddenly find myself quite thirsty," he explained to the barmaid, who happily set one of her mugs of ale before him and marched off to take care of the new guests. Rage simmered beneath his skin and he allowed it. Let them drink. Let them gorge themselves on food and drink. His thirst was much more murderous. It would only be satisfied by blood. For Baelfire.

For Milah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let's talk for a second about how one manages to write a fiction as big as this one, because if you think like me you'd look at the original prompts of 180 chapters and feel a bit overwhelmed. The first thing I did was break the fiction down into sections, eight total, that I treated almost as individual fictions. From there, I broke the sections down piece by piece or rather episode by episode like I usually do. With a fiction this large it's tempting to skip a scene and gloss over minor details, like this scene perhaps. But that's not what I do and it would have been lazy. Doing it section by section made sure everything was in order and got the attention that I like to give to my fictions. This first section I called "The Beginning Section". I know, original, right. This section is one of the smaller ones but not the smallest. It includes the confrontation of Milah and Hook, Jiminy Cricket, what Rumple does with the dolls, and his first encounter with Granny.
> 
> Thank you so, so much for your comments on the previous chapter RolfB, Tecupsroses, and Xiolaperry. I'm so happy to have you along for the ride! I hope that I make ya'll proud. I'm sorry it's such a long fiction, but I've been planning for this story for years and I wanted to do it right! Peace and Happy Reading!


	3. Justice at Last

His name was Killian Jones, and though they'd only been introduced, formally, one time, it was a name he wasn't likely to ever forget. Or a face. Especially not now that he'd spent the entire afternoon watching him from afar as he sat there in the bar with his crew guzzling mug after mug of ale. It was more than he'd ever thought a mortal man would be able to handle and still be conscious. If he weren't already so disgusted with him, he might have been impressed.

He'd only ever known Killian Jones in one way. As a ruthless man who had taken his wife and refused to give her back, sentencing her to what he was sure was certain death on the high seas, which probably would have been a blessing after whatever treatment she'd received at the hands of those pirates. He'd only ever seen him from the perspective of an enemy and a pathetic excuse for an enemy that he had been. But knowing a person didn't always mean walking up and becoming friends with them. Good observation could provide him with all he needed to know. And he was astonished now to see that with his crew he wasn't entirely a ruthless, barbarian pirate. He sat with them, drank with them, exchanged gestures of friendship and brotherly love with them; small nudges of the elbow, pats on the back, teases that he'd seen other friends give one another when he'd been a soldier in a war. There was a friendliness to them, and yet even from watching them, he understood that they respected him; they looked up to him, the young as a father, and the others as a brother and potentially even a friend. He was sure that if he asked them, they'd tell him he was a good Captain. A good leader. "Good" in this case meaning competent. But he'd always been a firm believer that the way to tell a man's heart wasn't how they treated their friends but those that they'd consider less than them.

He wondered if he'd remember him. He wondered if Jones would look upon his face, gnarled and cursed as it was, and remember the exchange they'd had years ago. Or if he'd forgotten. Was his family, his wife and son, nothing but one of hundreds of hazy memories? Fortunately for him, extracting memories wasn't difficult, just painful for the person he extracted them from. He hadn't had many excuses to try it in his time as the Dark One, but Killian Jones was exactly the kind of person he wouldn't mind practicing on!

He stayed until darkness fell, and Killian Jones finally announced to the rest of the crew that it was time they head back to the ship since they were shipping off in the morning. He left in a cloud of smoke after leaving behind a few coins for the barmaid's misplaced attentions and keeping him well watered. A rowdy group the pirates were. Jones led them through the darkened streets as if it was a parade of some kind. People parted for them, making way either out of fear or respect, but he didn't require either, and he was waiting in the shadows to see what would become of an individual who showed these pirates neither. When no one was willing to take the risk, he decided to take it upon himself. He summoned from his homes a copper cup and quickly pulled the hood of a cloak up over his head, shielding his face, or at least his eyes from view as he held the cup out. And just for good measure, he took a little bit of the magic he used to placate his bad ankle so that he could feel a twinge of the pain when he walked. It wasn't necessary, of course, he'd been a cripple long enough that he knew he could act the part just fine. But doing it for real in front of Jones was fun all the same. When he was ready, he pushed and shoved his way through the crowd of pirates, purposefully shoving past Killian Jones and hitting his elbow before walking on and waiting to see what would happen.

"Hey, you. Stop! Even gutter rats have more manners than you just displayed!" the familiar voice called out after him. And that was precisely the response he'd been hoping to incite. For it gave him an excuse to turn and face Jones one more time, but this time not as a weak, cowardly cripple, but as the Dark One, just as smart as Jones and yet infinitely more powerful.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir," he stuttered out in an accent borrowed from some poor previous Dark One.

"Ah…I was wrong. Not a rat at all. More…more like a crocodile!" he proclaimed. His crew laughed behind him as he advanced. With one swipe, he hit the copper cup from his hand, letting the few coins he had inside spill out onto the stones, then quickly, just as a beggar would, he knelt down to pick them up. When Jones kicked him down, the men laughed, but he didn't cry out or complain. It was exactly what he'd wanted to see. The action was just enough to tell him that nothing at all had changed in the years they'd been apart. He was friendly towards those who he saw fit, and still ruthless to those he saw as below him. And he was about to change that. The men had no idea what they were really cheering for. It was justice for his family.

"What's your name, Crocodile?"

He returned the magic to his leg and, in one quick motion, stood up straight and tall and laughed as he pulled back his hood to reveal his face. Even if he didn't recognize him, with the "rumors" as widespread as they were, he should know at least what he was by just the look of him.

"You…" the Captain smiled. "I remember you."

Perhaps, but it was clear to him that he didn't, at least not as clearly as he would have liked. He recalled his face but not the events that led him to the last time he'd seen it. Fortunately he was all too willing to remind him and content to toy with him until he did.

"Always nice to make an impression," he muttered, stealing the pirate's words from their last encounter as he tossed some of the coins at him. "Where are my manners? We haven't been properly introduced. Rumpelstiltskin!" he announced, falling into an over the top bow before glancing up at him in a slow, sinister way. "Or, as others know me, the Dark One."

That got a rise out of him. Crew backed away as Jones's eyes turned dark, and his face fell. Now he remembered properly. Odd, he would have thought it would take a little more than that. In fact, he'd hoped it would. But then…he supposed beggars couldn't be choosey! And when he took a step forward around his enemy, it was fun to watch his crew back away like terrified girls. He'd trade one terror for another if he had to.

"Oh! I see my reputation precedes me."

"It does," Jones answered.

"Good!" he declared as he turned to lear over the man's shoulder. "That's going to save us time during the, uh, question and answer portion of our game."

"What is it you want to know?" Jones asked, turning to face him. Well, if he did know who he was and not just what he was, that answer should be obvious.

"How's Milah, of course?"

A broad smile stole over the man's face as he shook his head, feigning innocence. "Who?"

Oh, he was sure that look went over well with the ladies, but he could see right through it to the lie. He knew Milah. He remembered her. But, if this was the way he wanted to play this game…

"Only too happy to, uh, dig out the memory," he offered, finally stepping around him so they could face off once more. "But it gets really messy."

That wiped the smile off his face real fast. "She's dead," he offered solemnly. "Died a long time ago."

He didn't let anything show on his face that wasn't planned. If he was honest, it was because there was nothing to show. He'd always known Milah would never survive her kidnapping, and when she never came back, well, he'd mourned her long ago. So long that his words felt less like a proclamation and more like a simple confirmation of what he'd always known was true. But nevertheless, he let the pirate think he felt it. He let his face fall, let his hand twitch a bit as it went to his side. Whether he felt something or not, justice would be served, and he'd rather fool his enemy into thinking it would be easily accomplished because of a broken heart than a battle that was already lost.

"What is it you want?" the pirate finally asked of him. Perfect. Exactly what he wanted.

"We didn't get a chance to finish our duel," he commented after a couple of heartbeats, for effect, of course.

The pirates immediately made to draw their swords, but the moment they did, he had a thought that made their situation so much sweeter. Death couldn't inflict the pain that Jones's choices and actions had given him or Baelfire, but there was another torture that might…if only for a night.

"Not now," he corrected. "Tomorrow at dawn. I am not a cruel man. Get your affairs in order!" he proclaimed lavishly before taking a step forward so he could look him in the eye. "Also, you can spend tonight knowing…it will be your last." He giggled as he saw a flicker of black fear touch those eyes which had once looked down on him with the same pitiful stare he gave him now. "Maybe I am cruel. And don't think about trying to escape," he threatened, taking another step closer so they were nose to nose now. "Because I will find you, and I will gut your entire crew like-a-de-fish…" He repressed a laugh as the men over his shoulder took another step away at just his gaze. But when he looked back, Hook didn't step back. Like the intelligent man he assumed he was, he saw only the fear of death in his eyes.

"Savvy?" he questioned with a smile.

The pirate swallowed before nodding. "Savvy…town square at dawn."

"And I wouldn't be late if I were you…I hate to be kept waiting!" And without another word, he vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I didn't include in this fiction was all the little details of how Rumple speaks and his flamboyant nature. And by "didn't include" I don't mean that I removed it, just that I tried really hard not to mention it every time he talks. We know the show, we know what he's like when he's in deal mode, we know how he talks and how he acts. This story is from his perspective, I wanted to show that acting like that is so second nature to him that he doesn't notice it. It's like putting on a mask or a persona. He doesn't think of it, he just does it. So a lot of times in this fiction I mention it when he goes into "deal mode", as I call it. I'll mention a bow or a gesture or a voice, and from there you should just assume that until the scene shifts he's in that state and acting like...well, like Rumple.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB and MissBansheeAbby for your comments on the previous chapter! I'm so happy to have you all with me for this and I think you'll find that we are really gonna move through this first episode and this first section in the fiction quickly! It'll seem like no time at all! Peace and Happy Reading!


	4. Promises, Promises

He was ready when dawn came, more than ready, perhaps. Once upon a time he'd cowered and quivered at the idea of talking to this pirate, now he felt excited anticipation settle into his skin at the idea of killing him. His heart was racing, his blood pumping as it hadn't since he'd lost Bae. If it weren't for the scales that covered him, he was certain his skin would have been red with anger. As it was, he was certain it was only the abilities of the curse that had allowed him to remain as calm as he acted, otherwise he would have picked up the first sword he saw and speared the man with it.

But he hadn't. He'd spent the night waiting atop an arch that overlooked the town square, unwilling to go home in any capacity lest Jones arrive early and weasel out of their duel by proclaiming he was the one who hadn't showed. So he'd summoned a sword from the castle he owned and spent the night high above the city living in memories of the last time he'd seen Jones, reliving every last humiliating moment of it, giving his anger kindling to burn. But he'd also spent time in his memories of Milah.

Knowing Milah was dead didn't affect him. He told himself over and over again that he didn't care anymore, and now it was true. It didn't matter. In his heart he'd already known she was dead, and so mourning all over again would be a useless waste of emotion. Hearing the words about what had happened to Milah didn't make him sad, but they did make him angry.

If Jones hadn't taken Milah, then there would have been someone else there to help him with Baelfire. Milah would have been proud of the power he took, of the way he'd acquired it, and all the things he'd done with it. What he was now was all she'd ever really wanted him to be. It would have been a dream come true for Milah. She'd have loved the castle that now sat unused, and with her help, they could have convinced Baelfire to love it too. They never would have returned to the village. Bae never would have gone to the Blue Fairy, and the three of them would be living happily now, the life that Milah always wanted.

But she couldn't live that life now.

Because she was dead.

And everyone knew the dead couldn't live.

But she could be avenged.

He could give her justice for a wrongful death at sea away from her family. He could give Bae justice by taking away the life of the pirate who had taken away the life of his mother. He could be given the life he was owed in Jones. He couldn't undo what had been done. But he could feel so much better about it than he did.

Jones arrived just a few moments before the sun, when the sky was still a dark blue, and the town looked gray because of it. He looked weary, and his gait was uneasy, whether from nerves or drink or perhaps even both. He didn't particularly care. Neither would change the outcome of today. And when he saw how his hand hovered close to the sword Jones had brought, a satisfying thought entered his mind, and he couldn't resist getting his attention by tossing the sword that he'd intended to use for himself down at the pirate's feet. It clattered, and Jones quickly looked down at it.

"Pick it up, dearie, and let's begin!" he called from his perch.

Jones gazed up at him before glancing at the sword. "There's no need," he muttered.

Oh, but there was!

For the moment Jones looked down to retrieve his sword, he called on his magic to pull the sword from its sheath, so it rested in his own hand, leaving Jones helpless if not for the one he'd tossed at him. Going over those memories had made this sudden change too sweet an opportunity it pass up, and as Jones stared at his missing blade bewildered, he appeared behind him.

"Sorry, but killing a man with his own sword was just too delicious to pass up," he explained.

He made a motion for Jones to pick up the blade and readied his stance as the pirate felt the weight of it in his hands. He was excited. He had no choice but to admit it as the pirate lunged, and he felt his heart flutter eagerly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd dueled with an opponent and a sword. In his younger days, during the war when he'd been trained, he hadn't been the worst swordsman, in fact he'd rather enjoyed it. And now, with the knowledge of dozens of Dark Ones running through his mind, he was an expert, a formidable opponent for a pirate who he had no doubt dealt with swords on a daily bases. If this were a fair fight with an uncertain outcome, it would be an interesting one. But the outcome of this fight wasn't uncertain. And he wasn't here to fight fair. Summoning his magic, he let Jones get close enough to think he would get him, then vanished and reappeared behind him.

"Ships that pass in the night…" he muttered, drawing him back to the battle. "Well, at least one ship…"

Again they engaged, and for a few strikes, he was content to think of this as just a fair battle to see what he could really do! He rejoiced when he sidestepped Jones and sent him reeling into a couple of barrels. He found he was having fun as their blades clacked and clanged, and light began to pinken the sky. He took a thrill in locking their swords and kicking and fighting the way men did, the way he couldn't have so long ago when Jones had taken advantage of a poor man's injured leg, using that as an excuse not to fight like a gambling coward!

With one final move Jones dropped his sword on the ground, knelt down to reach for it, and he stepped forward to put his foot over it and level his own sword at his neck…the victor.

"Go on," the pirate urged. "I'm ready for the sword."

He was the winner. It should have been easy. All it would take was one swift motion to end his life! But it wasn't easy and he couldn't do it. Because it was fair! Other than one magical move, he'd beat him in a fair game, and that was not the kind of justice he wanted. He didn't want fair. He wanted unfair! It was unfair what Jones had done to Milah. It was unfair what he'd done to his family. It was unfair, forcing him to tell Bae his mother was dead and make the boy live without a mother! A quick death by means of a sword, it was too fair for an unfair man! He needed something messier!

"No…" he growled through teeth clenched together so tight he thought they might crack as he stared down at the pathetic weakling he'd conquered, suddenly dreaming up a much better solution to their problem. The sword was too clean. "Do you know what it's like to have your wife stolen from you? To feel powerless to stop it?" he questioned as he held him in place. Words weren't good enough to convey pain, not when he had so many better options, options like this! "It feels like having your heart ripped from your chest…actually…let me show you."

Oh, it felt good, to plunge his hand into his chest and feel his beating heart against his palm. It felt good to watch the agony and discomfort on his face when he squeezed. It felt good to know he was responsible! It felt good to know this was unfair and that it wouldn't be a clean, simple death but rather-

"Stop!"

His joy ceased at the sound of the voice coming from the alleyway. Suddenly his once boiling blood chilled inside of him. It couldn't be a ghost he was seeing.

"Milah…" he breathed, looking her over.

Pants, black leather, trinkets hanging from chains around her waist and from her breasts and sleeves, and a necklace around her neck…eyes only for the man on his knees whose life he held in his hand. He had many powers, but he was certain seeing ghosts walk free wasn't one of them, and even if it were, the woman he'd known had never dressed like that. The woman he'd known, who had died, wouldn't have called out for him to stop antagonizing her murder, and certainly wouldn't have looked the pirate over with eyes like that unless…

Unless she wasn't dead…

Unless she'd never been in danger.

Unless she'd gone willingly.

Unless she'd stayed willingly.

For him.

"Milah…" he growled once more as the truth washed over him, and he removed his hand from the chest of…her lover!

It was so obvious. The way she looked at Jones, she'd only ever looked at Rolf with eyes like that. Never at him! She'd found her replacement for the soldier. Margery was wrong. Milah hadn't been taken against her will, she'd gone willingly! But…why?!

"How?"

It wasn't the right word. It wasn't the right question. But it was the only word he could get out as reality and anger tumbled over him, hitting him over his head like a waterfall. He'd mourned her. Bae had mourned his mother! He'd grown up without her! For what? For this?! For…Jones?!

"Milah, you have to run," the pirate exclaimed still laying on the ground.

"No," she insisted, looking down at him. "I'm not leaving without you."

Now the bitch was loyal?! Now she knew what commitment was? Wasn't a child good enough?

"Oh, how sweet. It appears there's more to this tale than I know. Tell it to me, Milah!"

"Please, don't hurt him. I can explain."

"Tick tock, dearie. Tick tock!" he screamed. He wouldn't have his time wasted on her. Not anymore, not after all the time he'd already wasted!

She swallowed hard before glancing down at the pirate, her gaze shifting between the two. She was scared. She wanted to reach out and help the pirate, but the way she eyed him told him exactly why she didn't. She was afraid of him.

Good.

"That first night, when Killian and his crew came into the tavern, he told stories about the places he'd been, and I fell in love with him," she explained, her voice filled with an emotion he hadn't heard for decades, not since Rolf had died. Emotion not for what she'd left behind, not for all he'd tried to give her and she'd rejected, emotion for the vile piece of filth before him.

He snapped the sword, taking control of it and shoving "the pointy end into the other guy" as Jones had once encouraged him to do. He'd thought it had been a duel for her virtue, he hadn't realized then that the pirate had been posturing as an opponent of a different kind.

"I didn't mean for it to turn out this way!" Milah pled as the pirate screamed. "I didn't know how to tell you the truth. I'm sorry."

That was it? That was why all of it had happened? Why Milah had been "taken", why he'd been humiliated, why Bae had grown up without a mother…because she didn't know how to talk to him?! It was the worst excuse he'd ever heard, and he'd raised a child. Alone. Because of that excuse…

"And so, here we are," he announced, still unwilling to remove his sword. He was unwilling to do a lot of things actually, including let her get off scot-free. Everything that had happened in his life, in Bae's life, could be laid on her shoulders just as much as the pirate's. She deserved to suffer just as he did. "You've come to save the life of your twoo wuv – the pirate. I didn't realize the power of true love before. It is impressive. I'd hate to break it up. Actually, no. I'd love to!"

He looked down and began to slowly push the sword into the pirate, counting the seconds until the lung punctured and breathing became ragged and-

"Wait," Milah urged. "I have something you want."

He resisted the urge to laugh as he listened to her and stared at the pirate. Something he wanted…she wanted to deal with him. Too late! What he wanted was his son, and since she obviously hadn't wanted him, he assumed he wasn't hidden somewhere in her bodice. There was nothing she had he wanted, except, potentially, the promise of a painfully slow death!

"Well, I find that very difficult to believe…" Or at least he did until she pulled free a floppy red had he recognized. It belonged to William Smee. It belonged to the man who was, at present, his greatest chance at finding his son. And that, really, was all that he wanted. Clever wench. "Where did you get that?"

"You know who I took it from," she answered confidently enough that told him she knew exactly what she held over him. "I may not know what the Dark One wants with a magic bean, but I have it."

And she wanted to make a deal…

"Oh, I feel a proposal coming on."

"The magic bean in exchange for our lives. Deal?"

That was a very, very high price. But was it fair? Potentially. So long as what she was saying was true. This was Milah after all, he had more reason not to trust her than he did to-

No, that was a lie. He had no reason to trust her. And he wasn't inclined to let the pair of them out of his sight until he was sure they could deliver on their promise.

"I want to see it first," he snarled.

"Milah!"

"Shh!" she shrieked at the pirate with every bit the anger she'd once hushed their son in the middle of the night when he wouldn't stop talking and go to sleep. It was good to know that somethings never changed, but at the same time it was too familiar, too intimate a memory, for all of this and it turned his stomach. How could she be this way? How could she barter with her husband in the same breath that she used to hush her lover, in the same tone she'd soothed her child. It was sickening. "If this is what it takes to save our lives…you'll have to follow me. And if he dies, the deal is off Rumpelstiltskin! You'll never find where I've hidden the bean, not without me, and if he dies, I'll die before I show it to you."

Why was she squabbling?! They'd already made the deal she just had to follow through. He had a son to get to.

"The bean for your lives…but only once I've seen it!" he repeated through clenched, angry teeth.

"Done. Follow me," she answered before stepping forward and then around him to help Jones up off the floor. She placed his arm around her neck and held him secure against her body, taking his current disability on herself as she never had with him, and it took every last ounce of control he had not to run her through right then and there. It took the memory of his son. And the promise of a bean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, in this chapter we encounter mention of two characters, Rolf and Margery. They were really important characters in the previous fiction and while we won't really mention Rolf much beyond this episode, Margery will reappear, sometimes by name sometimes not. So for those who didn't read the first two fictions in the Chronicles, small recap of who these characters are-before Milah married Rumple she was in a relationship with Rolf. She probably intended to marry Rolf but got Rumple instead. Rolf went on to marry a woman named Margery. Rolf and Rumple went off to war, Rolf died. Milah left Rumple for Hook who bears a striking resemblance to Rolf. Margery and Rumple started a "friends with benefits" relationship and Margery informed Rumple that Milah and Rolf never actually ended their relationship after they were married. Before Rumple became the Dark One, Margery parted with Rumple, pleasantly, and married another man. After he became the Dark One, Rumple found her to check in on her and found her happy and pregnant. There you have it.
> 
> Thank you to RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I hope that this chapter was what you were hoping it would be with the reintroduction of Milah. This is not exactly my favorite of the Rumple episodes for so many reasons, but I know that after this episode the section starts to get fun! One more chapter of Milah and Hook, two more in this episode! Peace and Happy Reading!


	5. The Sweet Taste of Revenge

He didn't help them. Watching the wife he and his son had believed to be dead support her injured lover through the streets didn't exactly inspire an urge to help. In fact, the knowledge that he could send the pirate anywhere with only a wave of his hand was not only tempting but satisfying. He had thought, once or twice, that he certainly could separate them, which would still be in keeping with their deal, but watching the pair of them struggle was so much better. When she stumbled, when he fell, when their breath grew ragged with effort; he ignored it all and simply followed after them, leering like a shadow, hoping they felt every bit as uncomfortable as they should for their deception and crimes, crimes that got worse by the second.

As they arrived at the docks and he spotted the ship that he'd once been so hideously humiliated on, it dawned on him that the last time he'd been here, he had asked not just for his wife back but for his son's mother. Milah had spent the last thirty minutes in his company. Not once did she ask about her son. His old friend, who told him to be wary of her before they'd married, had been right all along. And if he'd seen that and listened, he wondered what kind of trajectory his life would have taken. "Another place, another time..." his former bedmate, Margery, had once suggested. Now he wondered what that other life would have looked like if Milah had never been in it.

"Milah, what happened?" someone asked as they boarded the boat. She tossed the red hat at the man before he stepped forward to help her get Jones safely on deck.

"Fetch some water. And get me that prisoner below deck, along with the goods that he carried. Now!"

"Bring up the prisoner!" he called, rushing off.

She ordered, he obeyed. They all followed her commands, and she gave them with authority and confidence, the kind that came from knowing her orders would be obeyed. Obviously, sleeping with the Captain of the ship had its benefits that went beyond the physical. She was comfortable here, that much was obvious. What disturbed him was that she seemed more comfortable here than she ever had at the Hovel…with her child, her own flesh and blood.

"Well, well. Seems like you finally found a family…you could never have with me," he taunted, wondering if she'd take the bait and finally take the opportunity to ask about her only child. Unless of course she'd had another, but he didn't see any children running along the deck. Of course, that proved nothing. He knew now it wouldn't have exactly been out of character for Milah to have the child and set sail, leaving it behind. He pitied any creature that might call her "mother".

But Milah was a clever wench, it appeared. She didn't take the bait. Her face remained stoic and unreadable as she glared at him as if knowing what he was trying to do. But a heartbeat later, it didn't matter because Baelfire did have one parent who cared about him and wasn't about to let him go through life alone. And now, the way back to _his_ son was possibly right in front of him.

"Alright, get your sorry arse up there!" He watched as the crew dragged William Smee up from a lower deck, his hands bound, a gag in his mouth and…oh, he saw why he needed the hat. If he hadn't seen him without it, he never would have thought that it was an improvement.

He watched as Milah took a satchel brought by one of the crewmen and strode over to him. There it was. Held in fingers that matched their boy's, a clear bean of magic that he'd seen only twice before in his life. The pathetic tradesman had been telling the truth! Better yet, he'd come through! Or would have, if not for…

Before he could reach out and take it to join Bae, Milah pulled it away from him and tossed it somewhere behind him. He looked to see it was Jones who had caught it and a fire he hadn't had since Rolf was alive lit up in his chest once more, it was a monster that had nothing to do with the creature he'd become and everything to do with what he'd once been, or rather hadn't been, in Milah's eyes. She and the pirate shared synchronicity that they'd never had, even after they'd managed to make a child together. And it made him angry. It made him so furious that the magic he bore now pulsed beneath his skin, itching to do something for him even if he hadn't summoned it. But their deal…

"You asked to see it, and now, you have," Jones commented.

"Do we have a deal?" Milah finished. "Can we go our separate ways?"

He let out a snort. Foolish mortals, they already had a deal in place, but they weren't the first to be fooled by the fact that deals were made in more than one very formal way. It didn't require those words; the second he'd told them he wanted to see the bean and had seen it, he'd felt the binding chords of their agreement. Fools. He'd rest easier knowing that he was the brightest of all three of them. But as for her request, to go their separate ways…

"Do you mean, do I forgive you?" he questioned as he began to circle. "Can I move on? Perhaps. Perhaps, I can see you are twooly in love," he mocked, looking back at her. Moving on…well there was a comfort. He'd moved on from Milah long ago, so had Bae. They'd done wonderfully together without her, and she may never know. Just as she'd never know that he'd moved on well before this point with the wife of the man she'd cheated on him with. What a reassuring thought to know that he and Margery had well and truly gotten back against their tormentors.

"Thank you," Milah smiled before turning to head back to her pirate.

"Just one question!" he shouted before she could make it to him.

She looked a little more nervous when she turned back, but eventually faced him with her back just as straight and a hand on her hip, hiding her nerves behind annoyance. "What do you want to know."

It wasn't about what he wanted to know. Their lives and her crimes against him were one thing, that was for him, he could move on from that. But there was a second who deserved answers he'd never get now.

"How could you leave Bae?" he accused, stepping forward. Suddenly the magic that he felt quivering beneath the surface made its way out, and he was aware of several ropes that had been tied became unbound and snapped free violently. Yes. That was the look on her face that he wanted. Fear. His son would want to know, would need to know just why his mother had chosen this cur, this family, over their own! Over her own flesh and blood! He couldn't think of a more cowardly act than leaving a child. He couldn't think of a more cowardly act than making your child believe you had suffered and died! Except, perhaps, making the one person who had tried harder than he ever had in his life to please deliver the news! She'd never suffered like that. It was unfair.

"Do you know what it's like, walking home that night-"

"-Rumple-"

"Knowing I had to tell our son-"

"-Please!-"

"That his mother was dead?"

"I was wrong to lie to you," she said with too much control for it to be genuine. "I was the coward, I know-"

"You left him!" he screamed at her. This wasn't about him! This wasn't about the crimes that she had committed against him, it wasn't the lies or all the times she'd accused him of being the coward it was about their son! "You abandoned him!"

"And there's not a day that goes by that I don't feel sorry for that," she cried.

Sorry? Sorry was all she had to offer? Feeling a little sorry every day?! People who were sorry, truly sorry, did what they had to do to try and fix it! If she was sorry, she would have shown up at their doorstep, begging for forgiveness a decade ago!

"Well, sorry isn't enough! You let him go."

"I let my misery cloud my judgment."

He sneered. She'd had everything that she ever wanted, everything that she asked for when she'd lived with him, everything he could provide. She had a doting husband and a loving son, and yet even he'd been able to see the misery she spoke of, and he never understood it. What more could she have wanted that they didn't give, and the pirate had?

"Why were you so miserable?" he demanded.

"Because I never loved you," she declared easily through gritted teeth.

Ah...there was the viper he remembered. He knew she was in there somewhere buried under all the false emotion and pathetic begging! He just had to push a bit, and sure enough, she'd shown herself. The miserable snake that accused and detracted and fought and shouted and screamed and called him a coward and pretended to love him all the while she and Rolf had…

His hand shot out from his body and into her chest without a second thought, and she seized up so that the look of resentment he knew so well was replaced with shock and pain.

"Milah!" the pirate cried, charging, but a wave of his hand sent him spinning into the mast held there by hooks and ropes as he pulled Milah's heart from her chest and held it in his hand.

Anything in the world…he could make her feel, say, and do anything in the world with this heart in his hands. He could make her suffer. He could overwhelm her with guilt so that she truly felt misery. He could make her tell the pirate all manner of things. He could force her to say the words he'd always wanted to hear. He could make her feel Bae's distress at her death.

He could make her die!

"No!" The pirate broke free just in time to catch her, so she didn't fall to the ground. He watched as he lay her in his lap, and Milah caressed his cheek.

"I love you," he heard her mutter with resolution and fear as the pirate held her. They were words that she'd said to him before but never with that passion.

Jones may as well have been Rolf!

He could make her die...

And so he did. Milah gave a sudden jerk as he squeezed his hand and felt her heart crack and crumble and turn to dust within his palm. The light in her eyes went dark as the life in her body went still and he dropped the ashes onto the deck for someone to mop up. His old friend was right. Milah was never any good for him or for anyone, except those who possessed cruel hearts as she did. Well, now she was gone! Truly dead as she should have been so long ago! Maybe now Jones would know and understand the pain he'd inflicted on his family by removing an essential element of it.

"You may be more powerful now, demon, but you're no lesser coward!" the Captain cried out as he lay the body of his wife on the deck of the ship.

He could scream and rant and rage all he liked. What was done was done. The true demon was gone from the world, dead on the ship, just as he'd always assumed, just as he'd told Baelfire all those years ago. There would be no need to tell him more when they finally met again. And they would meet again. For what he needed to make that happen was right in front of him. Deal be damned. If Milah could break a deal as strong as wedding vows, so could he!

"I'll have what I came for now," he stated, stepping up to the pirate as he rose, his temper simmering just beneath the surface.

"You'll have to kill me first," he shouted as he fist clenched tighter over the bean he still held.

Oh no. That would defeat the purpose of all this. Death was too easy and fair for someone who had been so unfair and taken so much from him. Now the tides had turned. He was powerful and no longer a coward, and he would leave this ship with that bean and with the Captain alive to suffer as he had.

"I'm afraid that's not in the cards for you, sonny boy." Without warning, he drew the sword he'd belted when they'd come onto this ship and in one fell stroke separated Jones's hand from the rest of his body. The pirate cried out, doubled over in pain, and fell to the deck of the ship, breathing just as heavily as the stump at the end of his arm bled. He felt nothing for his suffering. It was just more for the debt that he owed to him as far as he was concerned. And as he reached down to pick up the severed hand still holding tight to the bean, he happily laid his sword against his neck. "I want you alive," he explained. "Because I want you to suffer like I did."

And he wished him luck in that endeavor. As for his own endeavor, with the sword back in his belt and the bean in…well, the hand in his hand, he was ready to be off this boat once and for all.

Suddenly from behind him, he heard a scream, loud and growing closer. When he turned to identify the reason he caught a glance of Jones charging him before-

Now it was his turn to double in pain as a sharp radiating heat filled his chest and pushed into his heart. A hook. Some tool used for something or other had been forced into his chest through his scaly vest and skin. Now he felt it there against his heart, moving, tapping in rhythm to its beating.

But he was the Dark One, and he was a lot harder to kill now that his skin was tougher. He easily directed some of his magic to the injury against his chest, and the pain relieved instantly so that he could laugh while he picked his head up to smile at the unsuspecting man. He was certain that he thought this would alleviate some of the pain he felt over the tramp behind him, perhaps avenge her in some way. He hoped that seeing him happy and alive just cut deeper into that wound he'd never be able to fill.

"Killing me's going to take a lot more than that, dearie!"

"Even demons can be killed. I will find a way," he vowed.

It was funny, really. For hundreds of years, Dark Ones had been searching for ways to do just that to save themselves from that fate, and no one had ever been successful. He highly doubted someone who would only live a few brief decades on this earth compared to what he could live would ever succeed where they had failed. And then there was simply the fact that he had the bean, and would soon enough be far away from this Earth with no way for the pirate to follow after him. How tragic.

"Well, good luck living long enough!" he challenged. He held on tight to the pirate's hand as he let his magic envelop and then consume him to drag him away from this place. But for good measure, he let the hook drop from his chest to remain with Jones as one last parting gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there is a lot happening in this chapter, but this is a really good place to talk about something that will happen through this fiction and one place that it failed. When creating the timeline for this fiction, I did the exact same thing that I did for both Before the Curse and Descent into Darkness, only I did it like it was on steroids. I used ages. I put together a timeline based on the years we knew about and how old an individual looks. Now, sometimes this meant finding the youngest they could possibly pass for and sometimes that meant finding the oldest they could pass for. Just like before the name of the game was "plausible" and I was quite pleased with how it came out. It was very effective and the result is that at any point in this fiction if you want to know how old someone is I can give you their age and you'll probably say "okay I can see that." The one and only exception to this...is Hook. Rumple, Milah, Bae, Emma, Belle, Granny, everyone fits well into their assigned ages, but Hook just doesn't. I tried everything to make him conform but the truth is that unless I make him about 18 when he meets Milah and leaves with her (which we know he's not because of his back story), he just never fits. All because of one scene, one episode! He's shown returning in time to have an encounter with David's dad. From there we assume he stays in the Enchanted Forest until the curse is cast but since David is six, according to my timeline he's got roughly 16-20 years in the Enchanted Forest to wait for that to happen and doesn't age! The writers just brought him back too early. Without that little storyline, it would have worked beautifully. So how am I going to handle that? I'm not. I'm going to say I'm writing a story about Rumple and it's not my job to figure out how Hook keeps his looks. That is the job for whoever chooses to do the Hook version of this. I suppose we can just pretend like he stole some fruit from Neverland and it keeps him looking young. But for us, if at any time in this fiction you need an age check or want to know where we are in the storyline, just give a little holler! I kept track not only of the years going by but how old everyone looked despite it.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! One last chapter before we finish out this storyline and give Rumple a bit of direction before we move into the story for Jiminy Cricket! Not my favorite of the storylines, I'll admit. But I really liked what I got to add to it, I love what comes after, and I just loved coming up with a way to use those dolls in a really important way because we all know we wondered what he wanted them for. Peace and Happy Reading!


	6. Everyone Lies

He had the bean.

Milah was dead.

The pirate was bleeding.

And he had the bean! He had the truth and closure he hadn't had in a far more satisfying way than he'd ever imagined, and now he had a way back to Baelfire as well. In the end, he was almost happy Milah hadn't died as he thought she had; without this incident, he might never have found himself so rich with knowledge or in possession of the greatest of prizes.

When he arrived hundreds of miles away, back in his aunts' home, his mind raced, making lists of what he had to do so that he could take that bean and depart for the world Baelfire was in. First thing first, his wound needed tending. He didn't feel pain anymore, not when he applied his magic to places he might feel pain, but he could feel his chest bleeding beneath the vest he wore. A deep breath, a greater concentration of magic, and his free hand over the hole in his heart, he felt the wound the pirate had left him with close over and seal shut as the blood evaporated as if it had never been there. When he pulled his hand away, there wasn't even a hole left in his clothes. He smiled as he pulled the magic away and felt no trace of the pain that had once been there. But as he looked down at the hand still in his clutches, he felt certain that was not the case with Jones. It had been a clean cut, but the ship's surgeon would still need to patch him up again. His pain was only just beginning. Meanwhile, all the pain he felt, the pain that Milah had caused him-it was about to vanish altogether.

Chest healed, he knew that if he was to join Baelfire there were other plans that needed to be made, a spell of some kind that might work in a Land Without Magic to lead him to his son would be important. Proper protection of the dagger still needed to be enacted. He would also need to fetch a cane, of course, if not finally heal his leg the way he should have when he first acquired the curse. And money. He would need to take gold coins with him, maybe even a few precious gems, anything he could carry! Maybe this way when he arrived and found Bae they wouldn't have to live in poverty. There were many things to do, and he knew he should set to work, but…

He wanted to see it again! Locked as the bean was in Jones's fist, he knew it was safe there but he wanted to see his prize, to feel it in is own hand, to know this was all about to draw to a close.

He set the severed hand upon the work desk before him. His eyes automatically found the picture of his son that he kept there. He'd drawn it not long ago on a cold night when he'd waited for a potion to brew in the fear that one day Bae's face might become as foggy and hazy as his aunts' faces had become. He didn't want to forget. And from that moment he'd let it that picture inspire him and goad him on. Now the moment had finally arrived to move on. To meet his son in this Land Without Magic. It was going to be terrifying and confusing, it was going to require bravery and every inch of the thick skin he'd required since he'd become the Dark One to deal with the pain Bae would no doubt feel from his first betrayal, but it was going to be worth it. He'd get what he needed together and when night fell he'd go to the same place that Bae had gone through a year ago, and he'd make the jump. He'd find his son if it was the last thing he did.

With a sigh and a smirk, he reached for the hand and began to peel the stiffened, cracking joints of the fingers back one by one by one to reveal-

He froze as the last one came up. His breath held in his chest as he beheld a sight that wasn't right. His brain took a second to process what exactly was wrong.

No!

Desperate, he reached down and smoothed the hand out feeling for something he couldn't see, praying and thinking and hoping and-

His eyes didn't deceive him. There was nothing there. The hand was empty. Quickly his thoughts played out in his mind reliving the incident perfectly and then seeing something he hadn't before…the number of times Jones had turned his back to him before he'd cut his hand off, the number of times he'd been focused on Milah, the number of times he hadn't kept his eyes on the bean…

 _"Watch the lady!"_ his father used to chant. He'd taken his eyes off that bean for one instant, and Jones…

"No…he tricked me!" he roared, reaching out and pushing the table over in a loud crash as his chest heave. He let the useless limb fall from its place and shatter with the rest of the items he had, including that picture. Gone. Frustrated he ran his fingers through his hair and sat down as angry tears gathered in his eyes. The bean wasn't there! He'd switched hands or put it in a pocket or…

What was he doing? Moping? Mourning?! Feeling pathetic and sorry for himself?! He was the Dark One! A lie meant nothing to him. The bean existed, he'd seen it! And if it wasn't here, then he knew exactly where it was!

He closed his eyes, summoned his magic…and nothing happened. He'd meant to go back to the ship, for the magic to take him right to what was owed to him, but he was still there, in his aunts' house. Why…

He knew why...

They'd made a deal. The bean for their lives. He'd taken Milah's. He'd broken the deal. The magic didn't recognize that the bean belonged to him and so it wouldn't take him to it.

He grit his teeth together and sneered. He'd be damned if that was going to let it stop him! People broke deals with him all the time and never batted an eye until he killed them for it. The magic certainly didn't bind them the way it did him, and there were loopholes to everything! In this case, he knew exactly how to get around her death. He grabbed the hand and set his magic not on the bean but on the blood within that hand and the ship he'd been to, and the next moment when he turned around he found himself face to face with the docks only…

The ship was gone. Impossible.

Impossible!

He looked wildly around in the place that Milah had just brought him to, next to the ships that he remembered from only moments ago, but their place was empty! How could it be? How could they set sail so quickly?! Their Captain had been missing a hand! Surely they wouldn't have just left if he'd been injured, and even if they had, they couldn't have gotten very far.

There.

As he turned to search the harbor for their ship, he sensed it. In the air, when he paused to take a breath, he could smell it, he could taste it.

Magic.

They'd used magic somehow, to shield or hide themselves or…

With another breath, he didn't have to wonder anymore. There was something familiar about the trace of magic that had been left behind. It was a much more powerful scent than he'd originally encountered, like the difference between smelling a pinch of cinnamon and a tablespoon, but he remembered the source and identified it. And for this he didn't need a loophole.

Once more he let the magic overtake him. He held the pirate's hand in his own fist, so tight and shaking with rage, he knew from the moment that he appeared back at the old woman's tent that she'd give him what he needed as well as meet her death.

Yes.

This was it.

The old woman who had set up the meeting for him with Smee, it had the same smell that the docks had only…only different. It had been muted before, heavily repressed. Now it wasn't. That familiar magic poured off of her home and into the grounds around it nearly overwhelming him. A simple witch, he'd thought. A woman of no significance…what he sensed now suggested otherwise. She'd been hiding her power from him.

"Well, well, well…someone has been a very naughty-"

He stopped as he entered the house and took in the scene around him. The woman was there, but she was on the floor.

She was still.

Jones's hand still clutched in his own; his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch as he leaned down to examine her carefully. She wasn't breathing, her heart wasn't beating, her skin was cool to the touch, and there was a pool of blood on the floor that was still dripping from her mouth. She was dead. And one smell of that blood told him everything he needed to know, everything that she'd been shielding from him the day before. Disease. She'd been dying for a long time if the smell of the polluted blood was any indication. She was gone. And he sneered as he stood up and looked down at her.

"Well, lucky you…"

So she wouldn't meet her fate, not at his hands at least, but he was one of the greatest wizards in the realm, and certainly the greatest that wasn't also trapped inside of a tree! He didn't need this nobody to break her charms! Something! Most weakened when the creator died anyway! It should be easy! There had to be something around here that would do it!

He looked around and found that her home was a much different place than it had been when he'd first stepped inside. Books, baubles, amulets, trinkets, bottles and potions litter every surface. So she wasn't just a powerful witch, she'd been a clever one as well, not only in muting her powers from him but in hiding it so well it had only appeared again in death! He nearly jumped at the sight of a snake floating in a jar of preservatives. Atlantean Rat Snake, the same kind that had bitten Bae so long ago…she had one?

It didn't matter! Though the knowledge in his head whispered about how effective and important it might be to hold onto it, he quickly removed the lid, reached inside, and cast the thing into the fire! It wouldn't help him find the pirate or get back to Baelfire! The pirate's hand, flesh and blood and bone, however, just might. And with that thought, he thrust it down inside the preserves and returned the lid before moving on to check the books around him.

No, they were useless. Books he'd seen before, books his aunts had, books in the castle…one by one he tossed them into the fire. There was nothing inside of them that indicated where the ship had gone or what she'd given the pirate to hide so well except…

The book on the pedestal. He'd nearly forgotten that the night she'd summoned him there had been a book on the pedestal that she'd been reading from the one that he'd burned, perhaps that one…

"No!" he growled as he inspected it. The book was open, unharmed by the fire he'd started. It was open to a spell to hide family. Blood magic. Magic that would hold even in death. "No!" he roared again kicking the pedestal over so that it tilted into the fire. He only just managed to grab the book off of it before the pedestal caught and began to burn. The spellbook was a powerful one, one he hadn't seen before, and if there was ever any hope of breaking the spell that she'd placed on the family member then he needed it. But who…

Flipping through the book, hoping to find some kind of family tree, he only found one name written into the side of a page. "Morgana." The Sorceress.

He looked down at the body before him and eyed it wearily, then sighed in disappointment. Morgana was a powerful sorceress that Nimue had learned some of her magic from. He very much doubted that she was that Sorceress. For one she would have died hundreds of years ago and not just now, taken down by a disease! This witch had certainly been more powerful than she'd let on, but she wasn't Morgana. More likely the book had once belonged to Morgana, and somehow, this incompetent, foolish girl had gotten her hands on it. It would certainly explain why it had a spell for summoning a Dark One inside of it.

On a whim, he waved his hand over the name written along the side and watched as the letters reformed into his own true name. It was his now. And it, along with a severed pirate hand, were terrible things to acquire when he realized that he could have had that bean!

He picked up the nearest object to him and threw it, casting it against the wall so that it shattered. The destruction felt good. But not as good as having the bean. On and on he raged. He needed to feel it, to let the anger consume him so he could get back to work. He needed to topple her tables, destroy her furniture, shred the sheets of her bed, break her baubles, spill her potions, destroy everything in her life right down to…

Something peaked out at him from underneath the bed. Something that didn't quite belong in his hellhole of a place. It was a bag. A bag with something very distinct on top. Dyed red yarn, poor quality, and knitting needles. And at the bottom of the bag, a single dying, decaying leaf on which words were written in crude, childish handwriting. "To Nana Odie, love Billy."

Billy...William...

He looked down at the book still safe in his hand. "A spell to protect a family member..."

"From something Dark when you could no longer do it yourself…" he added, looking at the woman's lifeless body.

She wasn't related to the pirate. She'd been related to the trader, the one with the floppy red hat _she_ had made for him. Smee.

What a clever little liar she'd been. What clever little liars they'd both been.

A simple transaction gone wrong, and now he stood with a hand and a spellbook and no bean.

He hoped the pirate killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated this chapter! No, wait, that's a lie, I hated the end of this episode and writing it was a bitch. Not because of anything that happens in it, just because I felt like the writers did something so stupid I resented them for having to clean up their mess. Seriously, think about it. What do we see at the end of this episode? We see the scene with Rumple, of course, he finds out he doesn't have the bean and he gets angry. Cut to Hook getting his hook as Milah's body is dumped overboard right before they accept Smee and move to Neverland. And the premise of that is just so...stupid! Really, think about it. Rumple had just cut hook's hand off then poofed himself back to his house...so when he found out he didn't have the bean why didn't he poof himself back to the Jolly Roger? He'd seen it, he knew what happened, and he knew where it was, why didn't he go get it? Well, Treatian, I think they left pretty quickly. I doubt it. Why? Because by the time we go back to Hook he's got a handy metal covering over his wound that the hook fits perfectly into and I'm sorry but I really doubt it. As mentioned before the next time we see Hook he has a metal covering on his wound that perfectly matches his hook and Milah's body is wrapped. I don't see Rumple leaving and Hook saying "right, now quickly as we can let's dispose of the body, someone bring that metal hook holder up from storage that we got for just such an occasion as this, and we'll be on to Neverland in two seconds flat before the Dark One realizes what happened!" It's just not plausible to me, but then neither is the fact that Rumple wouldn't just say "let me poof back over there and get my bean". So this chapter had a lot of questions to answer. I had to come up with a reason for something logical not to take place and then figure out a way to protect them along the way and...well, this is what I came up with. I'm sorry it's scattered, but I promise I did the best I could with it.
> 
> Many thanks going out to RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Crazy and irritating as I found this chapter was I must admit that I enjoyed putting some easter eggs in it for you. Some of those treats are going to be really important for future chapters and episodes and others were really just fun to mention. Did you spot one? Two? Any theories? Let me know! The next chapter is another familiar one and it's one that I love because it's so crucial to the rest of the story! I hope you'll like it! Peace and Happy Reading!


	7. Glimpses of a Future Yet to Come

The Hovel was too much. Or maybe, without Bae to share it with, it wasn't enough. He couldn't be sure exactly what it was, but he knew that it wasn't right. After he'd returned to his village, back to his hometown with nothing but a hand and a spellbook to show for it, he began to see the town in a way he hadn't before. It was dying. He supposed he'd known that for a long time, but with Bae farther away than ever, he felt like he could see it clearly. Families that once lived around him were packing up and moving, some because their livelihood had gone away and others simply because they didn't want to associate with him. In town, the docks were growing dryer. The fish were migrating. People were panicking. And panic made ripe pickings for the Dark One. But he didn't want to be bothered by them, by their constant knocking and hounding and begging for deals he couldn't care less for. He wanted his son. And looking around the Hovel, he was constantly reminded of his precious boy! He was reminded of the times they'd shared, the memories they'd made, even his aunt's house reminded him of the times he'd left Baelfire sleeping in the Hovel to go work! Spinning thread. Making dinner. Plotting to steal the dagger. That was Bae's loft, and Bae's chair, and Bae's drawings, and his clothes. By the door was where he'd said his first words, the little wall where the wool used to be was where he liked to hide when they played, the table where he sharpened his coals, the floor he'd taken his first steps! It felt like his son had become a ghost, and it all tore deeper into his soul every time he so much as lifted a finger to do anything!

The Hovel wasn't his home anymore. It was his prison. It was a distraction.

He was never going to get Bae back living in a dying town where people constantly came and went, where every nook and cranny had him reliving memories of his son.

So he moved.

He did what, in his opinion, he should have done a long time ago, and moved back to his castle. He'd barely been there since Baelfire had left him. Mostly he'd just been there to pick up various items or look into books he hoped would help him. He'd used it to store the Dark One Chronicles. But beyond that, he hadn't returned. The cold, stone walls were perfect. Though Bae had once been here with him, he'd been so miserable that he'd spent most of his time by himself, hiding away from his father. Painful as those memories were, they worked in his favor now. There were only a few adjustments needed to make it easier. The chair Bae had once eaten at, he moved it to the fireplace, now, if he really felt like eating at the table, he could eat alone without feeling like his son was missing. The room that had once belonged to Baelfire, still stuffed with clothes and books that belonged to him, he closed the door to it. This way, he wouldn't have to look inside every time he passed by.

It was quieter in the castle than it had been before. He was the only occupant now. He didn't feel tired or grow hungry. He didn't feel things like hot or cold, but he'd lit the fires in the rooms he used anyway, and eventually, the smoke rising from the place was what must have given his return away to the village below. In good time, people began once again knocking on doors and asking him for trinkets, but with much less regularity as they did when he'd lived at the Hovel. He didn't send them away. He figured if they'd made the trek up the mountain, then they must have truly wanted what they came for, and he did his best to accommodate them in a way that suited what he might want. Always what he wanted, because what he needed, that felt like it was growing wildly out of reach every day.

Killian Jones's hand taunted him. It sat in that jar of preservatives in his castle, across from his chair waving at him, begging for attention! It was a reminder of just how foolish and arrogant he'd once been. A reminder of how Milah had got to him one last time and then cost him his son…again. He hated that woman. He hated that pirate and Smee, but he had yet to find either of them. His only conclusion was that they were together and hadn't parted ways when he'd left. For all he knew, Smee had been in on it with Milah and Jones. It was all a conspiracy to keep that bean from him! And now he wallowed in those thoughts every time he saw that hand.

He despaired. He wanted his son, but magic beans, though not as extinct as the Blue Witch had claimed, were hard to find. Meanwhile, who knew how much time was passing wherever Baelfire was. He'd read up on everything he could get his hands on when it came to crossing realms, and while he was surprised to find that there was a Land Without Magic, he was horrified when he'd read that time passed differently in other realms. Sometimes it moved at the same speed, sometimes it was faster, sometimes it was slower. It all depended where on the map the realm was in relation to a location called The Edge of Realms, where time moved the fastest.

How old was Bae now? Sixteen? Seventeen? Thirty? Eighty? For all he knew, Bae was dead and buried in the ground. He'd lived a life that he only ever had dreamt about without his father, and now he was doomed to live for an eternity alone…for all he knew.

For all _he_ knew, but for all someone else knew…

He stopped staring at the hand in front of him at his thoughts. He knew what he needed. He needed assurance, he needed someone who knew more about this than him, someone who knew more about him than even he knew. He needed someone who could look into the future, who could tell him about Baelfire and then tell him about how he would find him! And fortunately for him, he knew of one such person from long ago.

The books were not the clearest on finding Seers, especially the one that he had found. Those who were blind, as the little girl he'd once met, were rare but true. Their sight didn't lie. If only he'd known that decades ago! After all, it seemed to be her prophecy and his knowledge of it that set all this into motion. He couldn't risk it happening again, but he couldn't stand not knowing. At first, he'd decided to take her prisoner. He'd come to the conclusion it was the only thing that would get him answers he could be sure of. But it took him months to locate her. It came from nearly a dozen different deals, from stalking pubs late at night and listening to conversations, but he had to admit that he was at a disadvantage. She seemed to be someone who didn't want to be found, and with her foresight, it often meant that she was gone before he even really found a clue. Empty houses, led to empty cottages with fires still lit. Rumors of a blind witch misled him, and by the end of the fifth month of his search he no longer cared to capture the girl, just talk to her! And that was when one beggar, a poor man who stood out on the street preaching of hope and joy he'd heard from the mouth of an eyeless witch in the woods, betrayed her.

In theory, this place seemed right, but he'd learned that she was a tricky beast. The beggar told him that his encounter with the witch had happened a day before in the woods, at a campsite where she was living. It was a simple campsite, he'd told him, simple so that she could flee at a moment's notice if need be. No wonder she'd been getting away so easily.

The place he'd arrived at was certainly a campsite, and the fire was still burning bright and hot. Someone had been here not long ago. And he hoped she was still here. He could use magic, go through her things, find a hair or drop of blood to track her deeper into the woods with, but he'd also been a soldier once, the last time they'd met as a matter of fact. He was certain if he looked hard, he could find some footprints, or hell maybe if he stood still he could hear her. Unless her eyes had moved from her hands to her eyes, then she was still blind! She couldn't get very far running through a forest with-

"I've been expecting you."

He froze at the female voice behind him. There now. Not far. Not when she'd know he was coming, not when she knew he wasn't a true threat, at least not anymore. Perhaps that was why it had taken him so long to locate her...

"Then you know exactly why I came here," he announced as he turned to see her walking behind him with one of her hands outstretched so she didn't trip on a log. He'd been right. She wouldn't get very far here. Foresight was the only gift she had working for her.

"What I foretold during the Ogres War has finally come to pass."

"Oh!" he chuckled. Sure it had, if that was how she wanted to look at it. Seers…they spoke the truth, but a bit of translation to their riddles would always come in handy! "Well, in a manner of speaking. I, uh, hobbled myself on the battlefield. Was branded a coward. My wife ran away and left me. Then, my son was called to the front. Oh! Then I became The Dark One. Then, Bae left me," he explained as he circled her, finally stopping just over her shoulder. She showed no reaction to his movement, not even to the news that he was the Dark One. Because of course, she'd probably known all that too! "So, yes. My actions on the battlefield left my son fatherless. But…it would've been nice to know about all that pesky detail."

"Knowing would not have made a difference," she insisted. "You still would have been powerless to escape your fate."

He giggled as he moved away from her. "Just…like…you." He raised his hand in the air and began to squeeze so that it was difficult for her to breathe but not impossible. He needed information; he couldn't have her dead! Which was probably why, unlike everyone else, she didn't put her hands to her throat to try and stop him. She knew what to do to make it stop! "Now, you know exactly why I came here."

"You want to find your son!" she croaked out.

"Indeed." His point made, he released her. For a moment, she gasped in the air around them, then suddenly stopped. She raised her hands in the air, and he took a step back, suddenly remembering what came with those familiar motions. Answers. Maybe this time, useful ones. Her hands opened, and those terrifyingly clear blue eyes opened to roll back into her palms as if in ecstasy.

"You will find him," she hissed out.

That much he knew. There wasn't any other option other than finding Baelfire. He wasn't here for those answers, to be told what he knew, he wanted details this time!

"How? And this time, don't leave out a single detail."

Suddenly her gaze, if he could call it that, shifted. She moved her hands to left as if she was feeling for something "It will not be an easy path…" She moved her hands to the right, still searching. "It will take many years…" -her hands were back to him now- "And require a curse." He watched as her hands began to shake and suddenly turned over. "A curse…powerful enough to rip everyone from this land!" she cried raising her shaking arms into the air and then-

All at once, it stopped. The magic he'd felt around her began to crack and dissipated as she began to shake and shiver, casting her head down as though she were sad and weak. This hadn't happened when she was a child. What was happening? He needed more from her!

"Yes, yes, there's more, I know it. Tell me!"

"You will not cast the curse…" she revealed, letting those blue eyes stare at him once more as her scarred face turned back to him. And then to the left again, as if she was feeling for something. "Someone else will! And you will not break the curse…someone else will!"

She was all over the place in a way she hadn't been when she was a girl. To the left to the right in front of her, before him. She moved her body, her hands, as if she was searching for where he'd hidden the words before shaking and slouching forward again. Her body still shook and quivered as if she was crying. It was obvious she was tired, and there was something big in her head, but what she'd given him wasn't enough! He didn't want riddles; he wanted answers. He needed more!

"Tell me!"

Her eyeless face turned back at him as she tried to catch her breath. She shook her head. "I don't know. Even my powers have limits."

Limits…now her powers had limits. It was difficult to tell on a being like her, she had no eyes he could look into to see if she was avoiding his glare, but he had the very distinct feeling he was being lied to. Of course, he couldn't prove it, but with Baelfire on the line, he'd do what he had to do to make sure every word out of her mouth was the truth!

"Ah, ah, ah. Not good enough, dearie."

She wasn't done trying to catch her breath, but he raised his hand once more and cut off more air from her lungs, let her get a taste of what lies resulted in. She gasped and struggled for air once more but didn't fight it in the way the others had. She rolled her shoulders, sought to make her body comfortable, but he did his best to make sure she never found it and wouldn't until she revealed everything she saw.

"If you want to see the path you must take, there is only one way," she croaked out. Suddenly, despite her struggling, she raised her hands toward him, palms toward the sky in invitation…but for what? "Take this burden from me!"

It was five little words, but it was clear enough to him. A deal. Her life for her power. The power of foresight! The ability to see what she saw! The ability to be free of her, to not have to seek her out or interpret her riddles or wonder if she was telling the truth or lying! Her powers had limitations. He wasn't sure if it was true, but he wondered what those so-called "limits" would look like mixed with what he already had inside of him. Ordinarily, he might take more time to consider the consequences, to weigh the pros and cons, but as far as he was concerned, there was no time to waste. Her power, the ability to see how he'd get Baelfire back, for her life…

"Mm, gladly!"

He grasped her hands tight and sent magic shooting from his body, into her own. The magic wound it's way through her body, seeking out her ability, hooking onto it, and pulling it violently back to his own body. For her, the effect was pain. Tearing her power from her was ripping her apart! He could feel it! But he only closed his eyes against the light coming off of him from the transaction. He squeezed his hands tighter over hers, fighting the urge to cover his ears against her screams but soon found both sight and sound drowned out by images and noise in his own mind!

 _"First born of Princess Cora to cast the curse to end all curses,"_ the Seer's voice whispered inside his head.

_A dark haired woman cradling a baby in her arms._

_Another beautiful woman with brown hair at an odd angle._

_A face hidden beneath a gray hood._

_A dock where a woman with blonde hair stood._

_A hero's burial._

_He felt every shovel of dirt over that fell over the coffin._

_"By summoning a Dark One…"_

_The book he'd taken from the home of Nana Odie, the one with his name written in it._

_A family gathered around a table_

_"A twin will become a false prince…"_

_His face in the mirror not scared by this wretched curse._

_Gideon._

_Strange clothes._

_A baby in his arms_

_A sunset._

_A golden-haired boy._

_"Storybrooke, Maine, United States of America."_

_A globe with landmasses unrecognizable._

_Milah's Captain beside the blonde woman._

_A checkered colored dress._

_"Snow White and Prince Charming shall bear the Savior who will return to break the curse on her twenty-eighth birthday…"_

_A woman with skin as white as snow and black hair cloaked beside a man with a handsome face and sandy hair._

_"I love you."_

_Roses._

_A crystal necklace._

_"And I love you."_

_Neverland._

_"A precious debt from a woman of ash will find the boy of fire…"_

_A woman in rags and golden hair._

_A dusty, poorly lit room._

_Six wands lined up on a shelf in perfect order._

_A pink house._

_A form in the bed beside him._

_A feeling of overwhelming love and desire and happiness._

_A woman with a sharp nose and melodic laugh._

_"The Final battle between good and evil will begin…"_

He had to open his eyes. The images were overwhelming, and…anger roared within his chest as the noise and clutter continued. His head hurt. He hadn't had a headache since before his curse, and for what?!

It was all gibberish to him. It meant nothing.

"I can't…see…anything," he cried out over the noise, only just suddenly aware of how their bodies shook. "It's too much. It's nothing but a jumble.

"The future is a puzzle with many pieces to be sorted. In time, you will learn to separate what can be, from what will be."

Another curse!

He let go of her hands, and she crashed to the ground, no doubt just as weak as he would have felt if not for the magic coursing through him. Time. More time! In time he'd learned to use the Dark Curse, and now in time he'd learn to use these powers…it was a trick! No better than the one Zoso had once played on him! At the realization, he could hear his old ghost laughing somewhere in the back of his head, taunting him for what he'd failed to see yet again!

"This is why you wanted to give me your power. To free yourself from this torment!"

"In time, you will work it all out," she breathed.

Of course, he would. There was no other choice! She'd seen to that!

"Wait!" she called as he turned to leave her. Apparently, she hadn't lost all of her power. Her uncanny ability to see without sight still remained. She was lucky his head hurt as it did, otherwise he might have taken that ability from her as well. But if it meant losing his eyes and having them placed in the palm of his hands as hers were, even now…he was glad he hadn't. Everyone had a line. That was his. "As gratitude, I offer you one piece of the puzzle." He watched as she raised one of her hands off the ground and swirled it through the air once more. "You will be reunited with your son, and it will come in a most unexpected way."

Yes, yes! Enough riddles! Details he needed details!

"How?!" he demanded as he crept forward, just as desperate for her words as he'd ever been.

"A boy…a young boy will lead you to him. But beware, Rumpelstiltskin, for that boy is more than he appears. He will lead you…to what you seek. But there will be a price. The boy…will be your undoing."

He watched as the eye on the Seer's hands closed, her hand fell to the ground, and he twisted and turned to examine her body. Nothing. Her chest didn't rise and fall with breath, and there was no sound coming from that chest of hers. With her final prophecy, she had nothing left to give. And now she was dead. It wasn't sad. It was natural. After one served their purpose, what else was there left for them than death, which is why he knew exactly what awaited the boy she'd spoken of after he had served his purpose. For there was nothing that would separate him from his son again once he'd found him, not death and certainly not a child. The next time he found his son would be the first day of the rest of their eternity. And as for this boy she'd spoken of…

"Then I'll just have to kill him…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing "The Prophecy"! At least I did at first. This was something that I was constantly coming back to and tweaking as I wrote The Dark Curse (that's one reason why I refuse to begin publishing unless the whole thing is done). I wanted to get it just right for going forward. I wanted it to have the right amounts of hints without being too revealing so that I could keep the "limits" to the Seer's powers intact, which is why it's so fragmented. If you are reading that prophecy and asking yourself "who is that supposed to be?" or "what is that from?" but also having moments of "oh, I know what that is!" then I got it right. I wanted it disorienting, but familiar at the same time!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Always happy to point out small flaws like what existed in the last chapter! And there are more where that came from! Up next we've got three chapters that feature Jiminy Cricket's story and we'll see how these powers all work together and how Rumple is adjusting to having them. Peace and Happy Reading!


	8. One Thing Leads To Another

The Seer had been far more powerful than he ever could have dreamed.

It had taken him less than one year to embrace the powers that came with being the Dark One and destroy his life in the process. But here he was, ten years later, with a power he still had yet to master and a life that was still in ruins.

Her power was mysterious, like broken pieces of a plate that only made sense when put back together, but the pieces were so fragmented they were practically dust. The powers of the Dark One helped him with recall a bit, but it was the Chronicles that became his most cherished partner in deciphering her power. It was where he wrote down everything that came to mind because of her visions, where he sketched faces and wrote names and recorded the results of his experiments in trying to control it.

Focusing on a particular question could sometimes help, but the true issue lay in the "focus" aspect. If what he was working on was too broad, then he got nothing but a jumble. Words were spoken in his head, often in the voice of the Seer whispering rhymed riddles he didn't know what to make of. Those words were accompanied by images he didn't understand, faces he'd never seen before and were sometimes hazy, and voices that weren't the Seers peppered the visions speaking in small sentences or fragments; pieces of conversations that didn't exist yet. Trying to focus on the search for Baelfire simply yielded too much information for him to sort through and put together. But that didn't stop him from recording it.

The prediction he'd first heard when he'd taken the Seer's power, it was scattered about in the vision, but he'd strained his brain until he was certain that he'd come up with all of it and written it down.

_"First born of Princess Cora to cast the curse to end all curses, by summoning a Dark One a twin will become a false prince. Snow White and Prince Charming shall bear the Savior who will return to break the curse on her twenty-eighth birthday. A precious debt from a woman of ash will find the boy of fire, the final battle between good and evil will begin…"_

Those were his clues, confirmation that what the Seer said about the curse, not casting it and not breaking it, were true. And they were hints that told him even now that what he was seeking to do might ignite far more than just locating his son. It would lead to a final battle between good and evil, and he had little doubt as to which side that would place him on. But he was years, maybe even decades away from that. And whatever role he might play in this final battle was a worthy price in order to find his son. That was all he cared about. So he'd continued to dissect the vision, continued to put it into categories. He'd heard names. Gideon and Neal and Cora. He wrote them down with question marks as he'd never known anyone by those names. And then there were the riddles. Snow White and Prince Charming were to bear a Savior…Snow…perhaps a witch? An elemental? And Prince Charming…well the vision had referenced a false prince; they could be one and the same or different. A woman of ash? Ash as in fire? Another elemental, perhaps? And there was the troubling notion that it was the debt with this woman who would find Bae, but the Seer had told him the leader would be a boy, and most disturbing of all that boy would be his undoing. It was gibberish to him, even ten years later.

He sketched what he could, those things that he could remember, but even then, he was left in the dark. Some sketches, like the blonde woman standing beside Killian Jones with a smile on her face were clear and disturbing, a stark reminder that the Pirate who had bested him not once but twice was still out there. The smile he'd had in the vision only made him want to slip acid over the drawing and make it disappear for good. He resisted for Baelfire's sake but made an effort not to return to that sketch unless necessary.

Other images, perhaps for the better, were more difficult to see clearly. The sandy-haired boy, for instance, the truth was that other than his hair cut and ears, the rest of his face was too hazy to get details. The woman in the bed beside him was another mystery, curled under the covers as she was in a dark room, he saw only bare shoulders, the curve of a slender neck, and a mess of dark brown hair on the pillow. A pink house…it was most curious of all as it looked nothing like any house he'd ever known before. Tall and wooden, proud, and elaborate; it was like a castle, and he hadn't even seen the inside yet! But he felt attached to it somehow, he felt like there was something special inside of it something that made him smile. There were people who lived there that he loved. Liked? No...the feeling when he saw it was clear. Loved. Baelfire's home? In the Land Without Magic?

Sometimes he focused on that one vision for days before finally putting it aside and letting his mind rest. This vision he'd had, it would come to him eventually, with more information. And if nothing else, this new power was content to give him information, sometimes in the ways that he'd received the first vision from the seer, but he'd quickly learned that it came in other ways too.

Sometimes it was a quick warning vision, something he could change if he tried hard enough. He discovered it first when he'd gone to the home of a woman hoping to make a deal with him. She'd been upstairs as he waited downstairs, in one breath he was standing, looking out the window, in another he was at the base of the stairs watching as the woman slipped and fell down those stairs, her screeches shrieking in his ear from her broken leg and arm. And then in the next breath, he was back before that window, the woman was upstairs, and no time had passed as he'd just experienced it. A moment later he heard the woman's feet on the stairs, he heard her gasp, same as it had been in his vision, but this time his magic reacted on instinct and he was on the stairs, reaching out to balance her before she fell.

"Oh!" she gasped when she realized just how close she was to him. "Thank you, sir," she muttered as a darkness came over her eyes and she looked up at him under her long eyelashes. "You are so much kinder than I ever imagined." And that was when he'd left her, without even hearing out the deal she'd wanted to offer him. He knew the look she'd had in her eyes, it was the same one a small percentage of women had when he encountered them, a look that reminded him of the way his old maid had once looked when she'd proposed he make her his queen, and he didn't want what he was certain she was suddenly after. How they found him attractive was just as much a mystery as his power of foresight. But that was a mystery that would endure, unlike the gifts he now possessed. The next time he saw an incident like that in his head, a farmer's wife dropping over a dozen eggs to the ground after a horse and cart nearly ran her down, he simply let it happen.

Sometimes the power manifested in remarkable ways. He could see and hear the future most times, but other times, it manifested as nothing more than a feeling. Not like the emotions he felt inside of him when he recalled the pink house or the woman in the bed. It felt like something pressing, something that egged him on, and urged him not to walk on by but rather to seek more answers. It was a feeling of importance that sometimes led from one thing to another. That was how he'd found Martin and Myrna.

He'd made a deal with a cobbler late one night, a deal to enchant his workshop so that he might make shoes without actually having to do the work himself. It was a deal the Cobbler would come to regret, but he was certain he wouldn't. For he'd enchanted his shop to do the work for him, but without a human heart, without a passion for the craft, the quality of the shoes was soon to suffer, and when it did he was sure the cobbler would call him back and beg him for more help. He'd left tonight with a pearl necklace in his pocket, but that wasn't his true target. It was a hammer that the cobbler kept, one that had some sentimental value to the cobbler, but he recognized as an ancient hammer that was said to cross space. Foresight or not, he was hoping that it was real. And perhaps if it was, it might take him to the Land Without Magic. When the cobbler called him back and groveled for him to undo what he'd done, that was when he'd take the hammer.

It was as he was considering all this that he happened to walk by the town jail. Two stories of the filthiest criminals in the land, locked in cells, crying out for release. Years ago, he'd have walked on by, but now…

It came to him in the form of pressure. Something small easing against his back, as if it was shoving him forward, telling him to go inside. Curiosity got the better of him, and he went, just as the power demanded. The jailer was asleep inside, sitting against a wall by the fire snoring; he never even heard him come in. He wasn't the reason for the pressure he felt. It was…upstairs? He let the power lead him, let it take him around corners and through the hall until he arrived at a set of stairs and climbed. It was here. Something here. Or someone. It was the people that the power led him too. Row after row of cells and he could almost hear the Seers voice saying _"no, not that one"_ with each one that he looked at. He must have passed a dozen enough to make him think, "if not these, then who?" The focus helped. They were at the end of the row, he noted. In a cell of five individuals, he was drawn most of all to a man and a woman. Filthy creatures, vile. And to make it worse, they smelled. Of course, it also could have been the jail.

It didn't take him long to realize that Martin and Myrna were the worst sort of individuals. Puppeteers in jail for stealing during their shows, they were due to be hanged tomorrow for their crimes. And they didn't care. Something as serious as they were in for and they made jokes, they played off one another in the confidence that they didn't need help they'd get out of the predicament they were in on their own and get back to their boy…

And he was ready to leave until he'd heard that. Get back to their boy?

_The boy._

"Our son Jiminy!" she explained. "Poor boy!"

"Sweet boy! Won't stand a chance without us!" he went on.

"Oh, I'm sure someone will take him in, we'd best just hope it isn't robbers."

"Or murderers!"

"Or thieves! And that's if he ever leaves that wagon!"

"Such a good boy, and we did tell him to wait."

"Not very birght"

"Wouldn't surprise me if he waited for us until he died himself."

"Yes, always looking down the road."

"For his dear sweet mummy and papa to come home to him."

Oh, he hated these people. They were irritating in the worst way, like listening to a cat whine. And if it were up to him, he would have left them where he found them to die, but that push, that shove he felt pointed him in another direction. Toward them. There was something important about them. And so, with a wave of his hand, he freed them. He took them into the forest, and using their bodies in his magic was able to locate a simple wagon in the woods. There was a light lit inside.

"Oh! Oh, Martin! The nice creature has brought us home! Jiminy?! Jiminy!"

Someone burst out of the back of the wagon, but it wasn't a child, and it wasn't really a man either. Tall and lanky, red hair and glasses. "Mom! Dad!" he cried. "I was so worried when you didn't come back!"

The moment he laid eyes on him, the push at his back became a tug at his chest. The telltale sign of significance. It wasn't them he was supposed to find. It was the boy. Something about the child before him was significant, but in what way? A vision answered his question.

 _A man appeared in his mind's eye. Pale. Dark, curly hair. A man who was not fond of the razor. He wore a black leather jacket and when he smiled the seer whispered_ "August" _in his head. Along with another feeling, one that he could somehow identify without words._

The boy, Jiminy, he was important to this man in some way. And the information he'd just acquired told him without a shadow of a doubt that he needed whoever that man had been. The boy was his only connection, his only lead on whoever it might be. It was imperative that he keep him close. But they were gypsies, they were thieves ,and all too often they were better than he was when they wanted to disappear, unless he made them an offer they couldn't refuse.

"Hold on now!" he called as they sought to hurry off to the wagon. "I've an offer for two upstanding thieves such as yourself!"

"We're listening."

"Go on!" They urged as they pushed the teenager to the side and rounded on him like hungry wolves. They took the bait, though it wasn't as satisfying as it hadn't nearly required as much as he'd been willing to truly were the worst sort of people, but still, not worse than he was.

He offered them freedom. Permanent freedom. They wanted to live this way? He could ensure that they lived this way forever, and should they ever get in trouble like this again, they had only to say his name three times, and he would come to their aid. But there was a catch, there always was.

He required treasures, precious objects belonging to those they encountered, as well as their names for his…"business".

"Oh, is that all?"

"Is that it?"

"It's so simple."

"So fair!"

"How nice!"

"How generous!"

Yes. So long as they continued to bring him treasures, they would be free to live their life as they wanted without the fear of consequence. And not only would he be able to have access to items and people he might potentially deal with as he continued to work out the puzzle the future presented him with, but he'd be able to keep their child in his sights, at least until he worked out who the dark-haired man was and could deal with him directly.

He didn't know who he was yet, but the gift had given him one vital piece of information that let him know he wasn't willing to let him slip through his fingers.

Somehow, someway, the dark-haired man knew Baelfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't really a filler chapter, though I know it seems like it. I think this chapter is more of a continuation from the previous chapter where Rumple got "The Prophecy". Here we see that he's getting more information about the future in his day to day life that is helping him. But he's also got that one prophecy and he's working on deciphering it. I think of it like The Prophecy gives him hints, but time will unravel each of them one by one. Then, of course, we also see the start of Jiminy and how Rumple came to use him as well as his parents. I know it's less interesting but all of this is really important. I was very careful about how I gave Rumple information. In most cases, I gave him just enough to attract his attention, but at the same time, I didn't give him so much that he couldn't make mistakes or not get surprises.
> 
> Big thank you to RolfB for your comments. I always appreciate the encouragement. As far as this chapter goes, Myrna and Martin...I hope that I got their character right. After watching Jiminy's episode they seemed really easy, I just had to be super obnoxious and then pass the comments back and forth between the two of them to make it work. But, of course, because I overthink everything, it was the fact that they were too easy to write that I worried it might not be right. I hope you'll let me know what you think of them, even if this encounter is very brief. I look forward to hearing your thoughts! Peace and Happy Reading


	9. An Easy Solution

His deals had never failed him before, and yet more than twenty years later he was beginning to feel as though it had. Myrna and Martin still the worst sort of people, but they were old and fearful and desperate enough to continue to align themselves with him. They delivered on their deal regularly, presenting him with items from homes they robbed while they were on the road and the names of their hosts. They'd given him one of everything over the years: books, dolls, enchanted mirrors, clocks, candlesticks, potions, they even brought him a pair of glass shoes one time. But what they hadn't given him was answers.

Jiminy was grown now. A man of seven and thirty. But he still stayed with his parents, and he still kept an eye on him and yet there was nothing! Who was the dark-haired man he'd seen?! Why was the month of August so important to him? And, for that matter, what was the importance of the lively sheep farm on the outskirts of his old Kingdom that he felt drawn too? Why was he so entranced by the little boy that played outside with his father as he sheared those sheep? And the woman who he could sense magic coming off of but had no abilities herself…what did it all mean?! He wouldn't regret taking the Seer's magic, for it had brought him answers. But he understood why she'd called it a burden! It was dreadful having all the answers but not having the right questions to put them with!

And the time…it kept passing! On and on it went. Endlessly! Birthday after birthday after birthday, gone by, missed, unattended, until they'd arrived at this day.

Bae was fifty.

His child was five decades old!

And him? He still looked five decades old. He still looked just as he had thirty-five years ago. He would see his son again. He felt it. He knew it just as well as the Seer had when he'd told him. But what would he meet when he got there? An old man? Dust? Did he have grandchildren? Great-grandchildren? Had Baelfire married? Had he gotten a job as a spinner, or a cobbler, or a shop owner? Would he even recognize his boy? For all he knew, the dark-haired boy that had something to do with Jiminy was his son. But that man he'd seen in his vision was certainly no older than Jiminy was now. And Bae…Bae was fifty.

He lit a candle for him earlier in the day, just as he had every year on Bae's birthday. But it had been the only light that he'd allowed to penetrate the castle. Even the sunlight pouring in through the windows had been too much cheeriness for him, and so he'd shut the draperies to keep it out. Time was his captor, but there was nothing he could do to dissolve the time that separated him from his son, so instead he took it out on the light.

He'd retreated to his tower to spin thread into gold with an altered spinning wheel, so he didn't have to sit down to spin one or the other. He spun thread. If he chose, that thread became gold and spilled into a bowl for collection. For payment, for bartering…for something else.

Payment day. Proof that even the Dark One was capable of being generous and flexible. It had been a long time since he'd ordered specific days of payment from Myrna and Martin and their son Jiminy, simply because he'd soon discovered there was no need to make the arrangements. They may have been terrible people, but they were always sure to honor the bargain they'd made with him without having to remind them in dreadful or messy ways. They always brought him what they stole for him.

Today was that day. He was lost in thought when his senses came to life, and he felt his protection spell around the castle breach as he was at the wheel, carefully spinning the fine fibers of wool into thread and then pushing magic into them to transform them into gold. A decade ago, he would have had to stop all of his work and go to the window or meet the trespassers outside, but now all it took was a quick extension of his magic to know that a man and a horse had ridden up.

He closed his eyes, took a breath, tried to focus, and…

An image of the red-headed Jiminy on one of their horses came to mind.

A lot of good it did him to learn this now, but he supposed it was better than nothing. He'd find out in just a few moments if the vision he'd seen in his mind's eye was truly a vision or just an assumption he'd conjured through careful deduction. He would have sensed if it was more than one person with that horse, and he'd never seen Myrna and Martin separated for even a second. And who else but that family would be so bold as to come right in the front gate without trying to hide. He supposed it was always possible that it was an individual seeking his services, but Jiminy and his family were well past due for delivery and…

He sighed as he heard boots on the stairs below coming up to the tower. Strangers usually lingered, calling out his name in the foyer. Only the three of them knew exactly where to come to find him. Terrible as his parents were, they'd taught Jiminy as a young boy not to wander, at least not in this castle. And his opinion of the boy turned man was that he knew what was good for him and would obey the command his parents had given. Even if it was decades ago. Even if he clearly was miserable.

He entered in the exact same clothes with the exact same look on his face as he'd had in his vision. It had been his foresight then. Oh, how he prayed that meant he was gaining some kind of control!

Jiminy walked about the space with confidence, knowing he was able, but with the respect of someone who understood he was faced with a powerful being who could kill him easily if he pleased. He was a smart lad. Observant of those around him. He understood people far more than they understood themselves, but fortunately, so did the Dark One. The boy was no longer a boy. He could see he tired of his parents. And with his foresight telling him he was the one he wanted to ally himself with, he'd been waiting for the right time to make a very particular offer to him, one that would benefit the boy as well as himself if he did it just right. Perhaps then, when he learned of the dark-haired man, Jiminy might come and tell him directly instead of making him do the searching. The time for this offer was going to be soon. He could tell every time he'd arrived here lately. He was reaching his breaking point. The problem was that after more than three decades of being apart from his son, he was at his breaking point too. He was patient, Nimue had once told him. Clearly she'd never been separated from her child for what felt like a lifetime.

"Thank you very much," he giggled as he came forward to set a bag of goodies on the wooden table before him. He heard metal clang and smelled foreign, expensive perfume. A perfect job, as always. So long as he could continue to trace the objects. "And the names?" he reminded him as he stopped spinning and crept closer to inspect his goals. "To whom did these treasures belong?"

Obediently, Jiminy pulled a list out from a pocket of his clothing and placed it on top of the pile. Well done. Very well done.

He took a pair of sheering scissors and cut from the very spool he'd been working on a generous length of golden thread. Enough for Jiminy and his father and his mother to split, though he knew the boy did most of the stealing these days and his parents kept most of the wage. And he hoped it grated against him.

"Gold thread – for your thievery," he explained, tossing it at him. "Thank you. You can go."

But did he want to go? He'd been careful with how he dismissed him lately. Showing him no interest all the while attuning every sense he had working toward him. He was waiting to see if he would leave. Waiting for the day that he finally snapped and asked something more of him. And as the boy took his time hiding away his thread with a sneer on his face and walked slowly and unhappily toward the exit, his instinct told him that his waiting had paid off. He'd been waiting for this day.

"But you want something else, don't you?" he questioned, stopping the boy dead in his tracks. Jiminy paused before turning, a sure sign that curiosity had grown to the kind of temptation he needed to be able to work with him. He began looking around his table for what he'd need to finish a spell of his own doing, one he'd been preparing for the boy for some time now. His own magic-infused gold into a silver bowl. And a potion…a potion to change flesh to wood…to scramble the brains…to preserve youth.

"Something with…magic!" The second he added the potion to it the contents began to sizzle and hiss at him. And Jiminy jumped at the sounds, nearly out of his bones in fact, but still came closer and stood opposite him. He lured him in like he was fishing. The time was right.

"Every year, I'm stuck in that damn wagon…I want to be free!" he confessed quietly. "I want to…I want to be someone else, but something keeps holding me back."

"Something? Or Someone?" he corrected, picking up another potion that would induce compliance and silence.

"It's my parents," Jiminy admitted. Perfect. Just perfect.

He used his magic to wave his hands over the potion in the bowl, gather it up, and confine it in a little vile. A spell of his own working. A spell to give him exactly what he needed without that pesky little trait of irritation. But the trick was to convince the boy in front of him that he was the one who needed it! He had to get him to use it!

"Then I have exactly what you need. This…will set you free," he tempted, holding the vile out before him. "Pour it, sprinkle it, put it in their curds and whey…anything will work." He offered it to him, but when Jiminy reached out to take it, he pulled it away! "Ah! But you have nothing more to give to me," he pointed out. His stomach knotted as the boy opened his mouth to begin the negotiations, but he couldn't let them get that far. He already had a plan, an alliance with the boy without losing the objects he so desired. This had to work just so…

"Tell you what," he insisted first. "After the potion has done its work, leave them where they are, and I'll come collect them. It'll be my fee."

"What will become of them?" Jiminy questioned desperately.

That question was what he'd been afraid of and the reason he'd been waiting for Jiminy to tell him he was ready to do this. Problematic as their relationship was, as much as he despised what his parents did, they were still his parents. And in order for this to work, Jiminy had to sever the connection and convince him to turn his back just as that wretched Blue Fairy had convinced Baelfire to turn his back on him. He had to get Jiminy to overcome this, so he decided to take a page from the Blue Bug's book-she was, after all, an expert at separating children from their parents.

"Worry you not," he assured him with a smile before offering the vile to him one more time. "They'll be in safe hands…and you'll be free."

Slowly a smile crossed over Jiminy's face. Slowly he reached out, took the vile from his fingers. And slowly, but without hesitation, he shuffled out of the castle with his prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ordinary chapter, we saw all this in the show, not much to comment on.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I got Myrna and Martin! Yay! I'm so happy to hear that! Up next we'll conclude Jiminy's centric chapters. Only three chapters, I know. But even at the beginning of this I knew that it was going to be a long fiction so if I didn't need to spend too much time on a character or a story, I didn't. So Jiminy is short, but it's the centric that comes after Jiminy that I am most interested in introducing to you! Peace and Happy Reading!


	10. Unplanned Results

He may not have understood how his power of foresight worked after all these years, but his magic, on the other hand, he was perfectly in tuned to. In using golden thread for the magic he'd given Jiminy he'd managed to place a tracker of sorts on it. It was a simple spell, just a little one to let him know first that it was used and second, where to pick up the remains.

He wasn't foolish; he hated Myrna and Martin, they were irritating beyond belief, but every time he went through the bags of goodies that they brought to him, he had to admit that they did have their usefulness. Trinkets were important. No, they might not be something so special as to get him from this world to a Land Without Magic, but if having the gift of foresight had taught him anything, it was that even the smallest of things could serve as stepping stones. One deal could lead to another, one piece of the puzzle would solve another. Jiminy had no idea who he was really dealing with, nor did he know about his son, but his association with him was key to finding the dark-haired man who knew him. One step, then another, that was how he was going to get back to Bae. Step after step after step…and now, the active magic sent a tingling ripple through his scaly flesh that told him he'd be keeping those smaller steps intact and in a much more sensible, much less mouthy, way.

Jiminy had used the potion. The spell had taken effect. But where it was…

He didn't need to, but he moved to the window anyway and let the chilly breeze take him over. Winter would be coming on soon, making the castle unbearably silent, dull, and cold. He'd need to move on, find something to occupy his time. Perhaps if he found Myrna and Martin, it wouldn't be such a bad winter after all. Perhaps…

They were moving. He felt his brow furrow in confusion. If he'd done his job right, there was no reason what he'd created was moving. And quickly too, as if…as if on horseback? Or maybe in the cart? He was stumped. Jiminy was a good boy who knew to fear him, he'd told him to leave what he'd done behind when he left, but the only logical explanation for the motion was that he'd taken his parents with him! Unless, of course, he'd failed!

No. No, that wasn't possible! The Dark Ones of old laughed with him at that thought, and it was well deserved. He knew this magic. He had been the Dark One longer already than half of them and had all of their combined knowledge. He hadn't made a mistake. So then how were they moving? How had he misjudged Jiminy so poorly?

Desperate for answers, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated.

Nothing happened.

After a growl of irritation, he took another deep breath, closed his eyes again, and concentrated…harder.

He saw flashes, glimpses.

_A cricket in a suit._

_An old man with bags under his eyes._

_He saw a little boy with a hat beside the old man._

_A polished stone with the name Archibald Hopper written on it._

_Jiminy, in the woods with strange clothes and a scarf around his neck._

_A white dog with black spots?_

_The dark-haired man who knew Baelfire, smiling this time…_

He felt queasy when he opened his eyes as he always did when he forced the gift too much. Nothing, it had given him nothing! This power was nearly useless! It was just piece after piece after piece of a never-ending puzzle. He picked a glass vial off his desk and threw it at the wall. The resulting crash was so satisfying he turned back to the table and quickly pushed the rest of it off the table until he was surrounded by nothing but shattered pieces of glass. He'd been stupid and ignorant to take this burden himself. What he should have done was taken that Seer and locked her away in a dungeon so he could have used her to decipher it all. What good did images without explanation do him? And what good would it do him to go after something in motion?!

He'd learned that lesson once before when he'd gone after another prized item in motion and horses had nearly trampled him. No, he couldn't succumb to weakness now. He might not have been able to see or understand, but he would if he only had patience! He had the magic in his very skin; he just had to wait for the moving to stop. And then…

It was well after midnight when everything came to a screeching halt. And not just a momentary stop. He waited for a solid ten minutes without feeling any kind of movement before he let himself be drawn to the magic. It was only half what he expected. He'd figured that if Jiminy truly had been the one to take his prize then he'd end up in the back of their pathetic wagon. What he didn't expect was to encounter Myrna and Martin having dinner…in the flesh.

"Oh! Rumpelstiltskin!"

"Dark One"

"Sir!"

"We didn't expect to see you so soon!"

"Welcome to our home!"

Ramblings. Nothing but pitiful, stupid, irritating ramblings that should have been nothing came from their mouths, and yet he could feel his magic in this wagon somewhere. Something hadn't gone as he'd planned!

There. A small compartment with a lock on it, just behind Martin.

"You…move!" he growled, charging across the small wagon. They barely had time to scramble away before he grabbed hold of the lock, called on his magic, and pulled. It snapped off easily. When he opened it, he knew he had the right compartment but was utterly confused by what he saw. Myrna and Martin suckered people in by putting on puppet shows, and those puppets had been the inspiration for the spell he'd given Jiminy. Magic oozed out of the puppets on top, calling to him, telling him they were the ones he needed and yet…

"Now where did these come from?" he questioned, grabbing them out of the trunk. He turned to face the couple who had been thorns in his side ever since he'd first laid eyes on them! Their faces screamed "guilty" before they did.

"Nothing!" he said.

"Nowhere!" she agreed.

"Just new puppets for the show!"

"Donna and Stephen!"

"We're thinking of putting a new twist on our current tale."

"Sort of a child fails parents kind of thing."

"Enough!" he cried, raising one hand that wrapped magic around both their necks like the noose they should have been in long ago.

Myrna and Martin and their son had been wonderful accomplices for the last few years, but they'd also been reckless and moronic. Keeping them out of prison and safe from the authorities sometimes felt like a full-time job while he'd had so much more to do. They'd been beneficial, and he'd let them get away with far more than he should have, but staring at two dolls that very clearly did not bear their faces brought to light just how much he was looking forward to not dealing with them ever again. And suddenly, he didn't care if they lived or if they died. They weren't his concern anyway, the boy was. How all this had happened was beyond him, but all that mattered now was that he find Jiminy and the dark-haired man.

"Do you think me a fool?" he questioned as they sputtered. "Do you think I wouldn't recognize my own magic when I see it? Magic that I gave to your son when he wanted free of the two of you?"

Their eyes widened in fear with every step closer he took to them. For the first time since he'd known them, their vicious little smiles were wiped clean off their faces. The woman actually shook now as she groped at her neck for something she'd never find. Their eyes were bloodshot. They were dying, and he couldn't help but think of the better place the world, and Jiminy, would be without them.

"Where is the boy?"

"I…I don't know," Martin stuttered out.

"Where is your boy?!" he screamed.

"Outside! Outside!" Myrna cried as she squeezed her eyes shut tight. That might have even been a tear that escaped the corner of one. He didn't care, the only thing on his mind as he walked away and heard the bodies of Myrna and Martin fall to the floor after a crack of their necks was that he was going to get to the bottom of this failed endeavor. Who better to ask than the boy who had started it all and-

There was no one outside. Nothing but quiet. Quiet and something else.

He smelled magic. Light magic. A very distinct, very familiar brand of Light Magic.

Dolls in hand, he immediately cast his eyes up to the sky. There, clear as day, he saw a blue star.

"No!" he roared. "Jiminy! Jiminy Stromboli!" he called out, hoping that the boy would appear or race back as he was certain he would. But there was no noise, no huff and puff of breath, no heartbeat…

He closed his eyes and listened. He listened to the world around him. He used a spell to enhance what he heard until he heard nothing but his own heartbeat, the beat of the horses resting nearby, a fox, a few dozen squirrels, and the crickets. The only human heartbeat was his own. If he could call it human, of course, and right now, he wasn't entirely sure he could. As he looked up at that Blue Glowworm in the sky, the anger he felt had him feeling far more like a raging black volcanic monster than a human. In fact…

In anger he tossed is magic over his shoulder, aiming for the wagon behind and then, with a powerful bang, he felt the force of an explosion and the heat of a fire. His magic shielded him from the debris that now littered the space around him. He didn't feel any better.

Three times…he could count three times that blue bitch had interfered with his plans to find his son! Of course, she'd said he would never get to him. It wasn't fate that had driven her answer; it was her own sick desire to see him fail, to make his son go through life without him. She wanted him never to find Bae, and it was clear that she was going to stop at nothing to make sure that happened.

But not even that little witch had gifts like he had. She couldn't see the future the way he did. She didn't have the prediction of the Seer. She would lose, and he would win. That was all that mattered. He was going to get his son back, and he hoped, prayed even, that she would be around to see the reunion just so he could rub her nose in it like the mutt she was! But in the meantime…

He'd be patient, he'd find Jiminy, he'd find the dark-haired man, he'd find Bae! And he may not have Myrna and Martin the way he'd intended. But the figures he held in his hand reeked of his own magic and confirmed that his spell had been successful. Who they had been didn't matter, what they were now was all he needed.

"You'll both do just fine. I have plans for you…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo! There are plans for Donna and Stephen! I started recording Rumple's scenes just before season three aired, when I started on the first Moments fiction and got tons of requests to write for him. In addition to recording his scenes I also kept a list of questions that went unanswered. The question that has been at the top of my list for well over seven years was always "why did he want the freaking dolls?!" It always seemed like such a waste to me! Why go through the trouble of creating them and then bringing them up over and over and over again if nothing was ever to be done with them! Well, I had an idea somewhere around season five and I gotta tell you that when the show wrapped I was super excited they hadn't covered those dolls because I had plans for them and I am so happy to finally get to share those plans with you!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I know there is a lot of anger in this chapter but I hope you think it's a fitting end to Jiminy's centric episode and especially for Myrna and Martin. Get excited! I am so excited for this next round of chapters! You know that list of questions I had? Well, in these next few chapters we'll be answering three of them-including how Rumple uses the dolls! Stay tuned ya'll, answers are coming at you! Peace and Happy Reading!


	11. Policies and Contracts

He had once promised that he would do nothing else until he found his son. But the truth was that he'd made that vow years ago, when he was certain that getting back to Baelfire was going to take a couple of days at most. However, days soon morphed into weeks, then weeks into months, months into years, and now here he was, in three years he would be one hundred, and it seemed like it was only tomorrow. He could remember a time when watching Bae grow up felt too fast. Now, feeling himself age, though he never actually changed on the outside, seemed like it was nothing. Time had that effect when sleep was elusive. Years sometimes felt like they passed in days. And so while he had, in fact, promised he'd do nothing else until he found his son, he'd found that deal-making was a fair distraction as he waited to decipher pieces of the puzzle that hadn't yet fallen into place.

Jiminy Stromboli was now Jiminy Cricket. It had taken a while, but he'd finally hunted that boy down, and what he'd found was only that damn cricket! He was looking after a boy named Geppetto, who, he had come to discover, was the child of the two puppets he now possessed. The dark-haired man was still nowhere in sight, though he watched that cricket carefully. Geppetto had dark hair, it was possible that one day he could grow up to be that man. Though a voice whispered in his head that it wasn't that simple, in his time as the Dark One he'd come to find that nearly anything was possible. The honest truth was that after all these years, his power of foresight was only marginally better than it had been when he'd first acquired it. He was better at understanding the feelings and urges he had from it, but the visions he'd seen when it had first become his own, the names, the faces, the hints…he hadn't figured most of them out yet. He'd come to understand that it wasn't him, but rather that those events just hadn't come to pass and it may be many more years until they did, though he couldn't understand how he was supposed to meet his son again if this was how long it was going to take. He had only that one prediction, that one promise, that he would see his son again to keep him going. It was a guarantee there was an end to his work. And in the meantime, the deal-making helped. Besides, he could never tell which deal he might make that may well be beneficial to him somewhere along his hunt.

He'd been called to this village several times over the last few years, always for the same thing. There was a beast running wild in the woods, and they wished protection for their children, their cattle, their homes, anything, and everything they owned. These poor folks were fools. Too scared to stop and look at the evidence right in front of their own faces when it came to helping themselves. Though he supposed he shouldn't be too upset by their ignorance, it was his "bread and butter" after all. And if, by chance, they chose to dust themselves off and observe that the mysterious creature only ever struck during the three nights of the full moon, if they observed that it never hunted during the day only at night, if they only realized that the beast never left any indication of a day time habitat, then they might realize that what they had on their hands was not a beast, but a genuine werewolf. And warding them off was as simple as getting ones hands on a certain potion and sprinkling it where the wolf didn't belong. Then again, even if they did realize it, there was one ingredient within that potion that could be tricky for the average witch or wizard to get his hands on. How lucky for them that he wasn't ordinary, and how lucky for him that they were not intelligent.

He had a bottle of the stuff in his pocket now. It was what nearly everyone in the village wanted to meet with him for, and so it was only natural for him to assume it was going to be the outcome. He thought he'd been planning ahead. He hadn't expected it to turn interesting.

"He's a lying cheating bastard of a man…"

He smirked as he looked over her red-stained face. "I take it we're not talking about the town beast."

"What? No! Of course not! My husband!" she cried before biting her knuckle and taking in a sharp breath. He turned around so she wouldn't see him roll his eyes at her as she began to cry. He had a soft spot in his heart for those who have been burned by unfaithful lovers and spouses, for obvious reasons, but crying was something he simply couldn't tolerate. In his experience, those kinds of people didn't deserve the tears that far too many wasted on them. In his opinion all those people actually deserved was-

His gut rolled.

There, across the room, something that made him feel like there was an invisible string that ran from his body to it. It was the instinct of his foresight that he'd come to realize meant one thing: something was important.

This was why he took these summonses. He never knew which one was going to be important, and it appeared this one was. But why?

"I assume you are looking for revenge of some sort," he stated, looking back at the woman with a smile on his face that suggested he was excited to help. Just as he anticipated, the tears stopped as she looked up at him.

"Revenge…I want him to suffer as he dies. I want him to feel the pain of what I feel. I want…"

On and on she went as he turned his back and inspected the trinkets behind him. He'd heard her story a thousand times. Young man marries young woman, has a few kids, and then old man looks at younger women and turns his affections toward them and away from older woman…tale as old as time. But he let her talk. He let her ramble because there was something here for him, something…something he needed to find, needed to have.

That!

That?

He felt it the moment he put his hands on the teacup. He'd attempted to move it aside to see if there was anything of value below it, but the moment he touched it a feeling of overwhelming completion rocketed through him and ended again after his brief couple seconds of touch ended. Completion...he didn't even know that was an emotion! But...he couldn't understand why this cup would stir a reaction like that within him. A teacup? Curiously he touched another of the cups. Then the teapot. No reaction. It was just this cup. Just this one teacup. Small and delicate. It was clean and white, the only color on it a bit of blue. Around the rim and just on the front. A branch and some leaves. The same pattern on all the teacups and pots. It was no different than the others, but it felt different. He felt…he didn't quite know how to put words to what he felt when he touched it, but it was strong. The closest he could come to recognition was the way he'd felt when Milah first placed Baelfire into his arms, and he had an overwhelming urge to protect and guard. This was like that only softer somehow. And yet…

In the back of his mind, he heard the whisperings of the Seer.

_"Not Yet."_

_"Too whole."_

_"Missing nothing."_

_Suddenly the light was brighter, he was standing in the great room of his castle, he held the empty cup in his hands. It was chipped along the rim. He couldn't destroy it._

This power was far more frustrating than even he knew sometimes. Just more puzzle pieces, and yet the thought of leaving this space without it was…it was unthinkable. He had to take it with him. How, for once, was easy enough.

"Let me get this straight!" he proclaimed, turning back to the woman, who was somehow still talking, with a smile on his face. "You've summoned me, The Dark One, to do what you cannot…kill your husband."

Alexandra let out a sigh. "Yes. No!" she exclaimed with a sudden shake of the head. "Yes, but no…it's not that simple. You see there are complications…"

"There always are, Dearie. So go on, tell dear old Rumpelstiltskin all about those pesky little details so that we might vanquish the villain together!" He made of a show of his arms before sitting down in one of her chairs by the fire and crossing his legs as he leaned in closer as if interested in the story. She was hesitant of him, understandably. It was nice to be in the presence of one woman who didn't get stars in her eyes but knew the power he had all the same. He wanted to use that to his advantage. After all these years he knew the drill, he knew how to mold himself into what they wanted him to be. The woman needed a helpful fatherly figure to listen to her and understand her. So that was the role he played. And it worked. Eventually, she came forward and sat in the chair opposite him; her heartrate even slowed a bit when she did it.

"A few months ago, before all this began, some people came into town and set up shop. They were selling insurance and-"

"Let me guess…you took out a policy on poor Mr. Edwaurdo, did you not."

She cast her glance to the side, a sign of shame, then drew a great breath as if to offer an explanation, but in the end, she just nodded and choked out, "I did."

Insurance policies. They hadn't existed back when he was a boy or even when Bae was a boy. They'd only recently begun to pop up and a shame too because he suspected that he would have been great at selling them if it was years ago. He'd seen the deals behind them, read the contracts, even made a few deals to help people be free from them. At the heart of it, that was all they were, deals! A deal to pay a certain amount, to gamble the risk of not dying or being injured or falling ill. If all was well, the insurance collector kept the money. If something happened and death, injury, or sickness occurred, then the family in question received a very healthy sum of money. It sounded like a good idea, but it mostly just meant that those who wrote and prepared the individual policies became rich. The policies were expensive. Looking around this house, the notion of how this woman had afforded one escaped him. Why she had done it, when up until a few days ago they'd been a happy couple, was curious, to say the least. Fortunately, Alexandra was a talker and didn't dare keep him in suspense for long.

"It was a few months ago, the attacks on the town were getting worse, and Edwaurdo was going out in the parties after the beast. He's a miner, and I'm a baker, with four children! We don't make much, just enough to survive! If he'd gone out after the monster and didn't return, I wasn't sure how I was going to get by without that money! It's enough that after the deed is done, it will really help us stay on our feet until my oldest can work as well! But, if he dies under suspicious circumstances…that is…if…if it looks like…"

"Oh, now Rumpelstiltskin is beginning to see it all clearly, Dearie!" he scoffed, finally rising from his chair. He'd seen the contracts these companies drew up, and he knew exactly what she was afraid of. "If there is any suspicion that you have killed him, any at all, their contract will become 'null and void'…" he chirped, quoting their term with his fingers.

"Yes, exactly," Alexandra sighed with relief.

"It has to look like an accident so that you and your children can't be suspected and denied your claim. 'Tis a simple matter of 'cause and effect', nothing for the Dark One to worry about, for I shall think of something that will never lead them back to you-"

"Oh!" she breathed. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank-"

"Oh! No need to thank me, Dearie! Just pay me!" he corrected. "I don't do such things out of the kindness of my own heart, after all…" he took a few steps closer and held his hand up as if to whisper in her ear so no one else would hear in their empty room, "they say I have no heart at all!"

He smiled as he stepped away, and she shuddered. "R-r-right. Of course, you're not doing this for free. I…I could pay you…a sum of the insurance policy, perhaps…"

"Oh, no, no, no, no…no, if I've a need for money I simply spin it for myself!"

"But…without money…I don't have anything else for you," she admitted her eyes falling. "There is nothing of value in my life."

"One man's garbage is another's treasure!" he proclaimed, taking a few steps back to the tea set. "Or in this case, woman's garbage! My price is simple enough…this tea set will do just fine."

"Tea set…" her eyes fell on the white porcelain beside him, and her brow knitted together. "B-b-but that…that was my grandmothers! I haven't used it in years! It's of no value unless you value sentimentality."

"Well, luckily for you sentimentality is a tradable commodity to me." He quickly plucked the teacup, the one that made his insides swirl, up off the tray in front of him. "I'll take this as my down payment, and I'll be back for the rest when the deal is done. He summoned his magic to create parchment and ink, a magical and binding contract. Normally he didn't bother with such a thing, but he always wanted to give people what they expected of him. For some simply the question of having a deal was enough, for others, they preferred his word. After dealing with insurance thieves, he felt sure that a contract would seal the deal, and leave her satisfied that all was in order.

He held the cup tight in his hand as she took the paper from him and read over the first few lines, at the most. The contract was nearly as tall as he was, there was no possible way she'd finished it within the few seconds that she looked up at him again.

"And you promise…you'll make him suffer…like I have? It'll hurt?"

He let a sinister smile curl over his lips and held her gaze firmly. In a time when most of his clients wanted death to be quick and painless, he had to admit, he did love stipulations like that…

"Until the end."

At his words, she marched over to a writing desk, took a quill, and signed the contract.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some fun surprises coming your way, and this is the first one. Ever wonder where Rumple got his tea set? Well, there it is! He's got the cup but how he'll acquire the rest of it...that's a whole other surprise and two more of those unanswered questions. This chapter, along with the next five I am extremely proud of. They are not scenes that you'll find in Once Upon a Time, but I tend to consider it the episode that never was. In my mind, there was a character that never had their story told, they were always a supporting character and showed up in several flashbacks, but never had one that was their own. So I created her story and, in doing so, took the opportunity to answer a bunch of my unanswered questions.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I'm excited for you to read these few chapters and super excited to hear what you'll think. So, what do you think...do you know where we're going with these six chapters? Do you know who the main character in this episode that never was is? Find out in the next chapter-or at least get one last very big hint! Peace and Happy Reading!


	12. He's a She

He made his deal with Alexandra on the first night of the full moon, by the second night, he'd already determined how to handle the issue of her husband, a foolproof way to be sure that Alexandra was never looked at with suspicion for killing him. For once, he was fairly certain that not even he would take the blame for this brilliance. But the second night of the full moon meant that he had to act quickly, and that meant that he had to have the upper hand with an individual he had not met nor discussed or even studied. The Seer refused to give him help, though he attempted to use her, she showed him no visions and whispered no words in his ears, which meant he had to do this the old-fashioned way. He had to be prepared for multiple outcomes. So, as much as he wanted to hold the teacup he'd taken between his hands and concentrate so he might understand the feeling he got from it, he set his desire aside. Instead, he stayed in his tower and began his crafting and plotting. By the time night fell he had five different potions made, one cloak with a strong enchantment that would last hundreds of years, a curse, and three spells. He couldn't imagine anything else he might do, couldn't imagine any scenario he wasn't prepared for. All that was left was the bait.

He took the blood of a chicken from Alexandra's hometown and ventured out into the woods. Finding the beast wasn't difficult. It was the full moon, after all, it was as simple as following the howls of the creature and the shouts of the party hunting it. He rolled his eyes at the noise they made. No wonder they never caught anything, people these days…they didn't have half the intelligence he'd had in his youth. It took a few educated guesses, but eventually, he managed to transport himself ahead of the crowd. He popped the top off the vial of blood he had ready and sprinkled it in the fresh blanket of snow, then waited. It didn't take long, the monster had been close. He supposed that in his human form, coming face to face with a creature like this would have scared him. But after coming face to face with ogres, trolls, and wife-stealing pirates, he was well prepared for the animal and well aware of what needed to be done.

The wolf was covered in black fur and large, so very large. A single paw was the size of a dinner plate, and the beast's head rose up to his shoulders, at least, and he bore his teeth in a growl that had saliva dripping from his mouth. His nose worked, smelling the blood and drawn to it, but unable to locate the dinner he sought, his eyes zeroed in on him.

Rumpelstiltskin only smiled with satisfaction at how well this plan was working so well. Now to be able to deal with the poor creature.

"My, my, my, we can't have a conversation like that I'm afraid. Come a little closer!" Though he knew the wolf wouldn't understand a word of what he'd said in that form, crazed and untrained as he appeared, he acted as though he had and charged. Rumpelstiltskin held his ground, waited until the wolf was going too fast to stop, then disappeared and reappeared behind the canine just in time to hear the thud of his head colliding with the tree. The creature stepped back and shook itself. It was dazed from the blow but was still very obviously on all four paws. Shame.

"Oh Dearie!" he called, making the wolf glance back around to find him. "Over here now! Be quick about it this time!"

And so he was, as if it had never happened the creature growled then bounded after him with a loud bark and growl.

Once more, Rumpelstiltskin waited until the last second and appeared somewhere else in the clearing as the wolf hit its head on another tree. He whimpered and cried out in pain, but it wasn't good enough. He couldn't work with something still standing, and even worse, in the distant woods, he could hear the hunting party coming closer.

Besides the place he was standing, he spied another tree, bigger and thicker than the other two he'd let the wolf crash into. If that didn't do it…

"Come on!" he cried, moving in front of it. "Once more you foul, filthy, wretched animal!"

The creature lifted its head and howled as if it was insulted, then dug it's paws into the snow and leaped. This time, after he stood aside and watched the wolf make contact, he saw it sway as it whimpered. It shook it's head once, turned to face him, and then let out a breath and crashed into the snow, nothing but dead weight.

"That's it," he growled approaching to make sure it was well and truly incapacitated. It was. On the ground, it lay slumbering, a small dent in its head that he was able to heal easily, but at the moment, his injuries were the least of their problems.

"This way!"

"I heard it not one minute ago!"

"Follow the tracks!"

"Tonight we kill the beast!"

The hunting party was coming, and no doubt it had Alexandra's husband in it. Ordinarily, he'd be happy to take responsibility for his cunning plans, but considering the circumstances…

Quickly he pulled the hood of his cloak up and over his head, hiding his face. And from the folds of his own cloak he revealed the garment, woven with thread of his own making, that he'd spent most of the day constructing. It was a red cloak, he'd meant it to be gold with the thread he'd used but attached to it he'd woven a very special, very complicated and powerful enchantment. He'd sewn the magic into it, and the moment he had the cloak had become a brilliant shade of red that would endure so long as the magic endured. The moment he lay that cloak over the wolf's body, he watched as it shimmered with magic and what lay before him now was…a girl!

"Well, what do we have here…" he muttered in shock as he looked her small, unsuspecting form over. Long hair, just as dark as her wolf, short and curvy, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, and…he moved the cloak aside to get a proper glimpse of something white on her arm. It was a scar. A very particular scar that really shouldn't have surprised him for it was only the bloodthirsty ones, those who held no control over themselves that possessed such a scar.

"Bitten…made not born…"

Overwise, she'd have had parents to show her how to be what she was so that she didn't attract attention instead of being out on her own killing indiscriminately. Fortunately for him, killing indiscriminately was what he was banking on. It would serve his purposes.

At that moment, light lit up the small clearing, and noise exploded in his ears. He knelt down closer to the girl, shielding her from view, and shook his shoulders.

"Oh! Oh, my daughter! The monster has slaughtered her! Quickly! It went that way! Quickly! Quickly! Quickly! Avenge her!" he cried in a shrill voice. The hoard didn't stop to console him, merely raised their weapons, gave a great cry, and stormed into the forest in the direction that he'd pointed. He sat up and watched them go, knowing that the solution was only temporary. It wasn't long until they would figure out the tracks stopped. Now that they had trampled through the tracks the she-wolf had made, it would be as though the creature had just vanished, which was precisely what he intended to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, it's a girl! I feel no guilt in spoiling this for you. The werewolf in this episode is Granny and because she is about eighteen years old we will not meet her daughter or her granddaughter yet. This is a story just for her, a story that explains the "complicated relationship" that Rumple has with her. By the end of this I hope that you're going to agree it's a good explanation!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I'm so sorry this chapter is so short, I meant to put it with the next one but the next chapter was clearly one of it's own. Read on to catch a glimpse at a much younger, non-granny, Granny! Peace and Happy Reading!


	13. Dealing with the Wolf

He never left the woods with the girl, just used his magic to take them to another glade where the hunters couldn't track them. It was a campfire, a place with logs around it and charred wood, where youth probably liked to come late at night for privacy from their parents or to test who was brave enough to stay out in the same woods as the beast for the longest. But for now there was no threat, not while the monster was silent and human again.

Monster…who would have ever suspected that the monster was a woman. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility, of course, he knew that werewolves could be women just as well as men, but in his mind, he'd never once thought he'd be dealing with a female. Suddenly he wished the spell allowed him to change the color of the cloak spread over her now. A mild green or light blue? Then again, it did match the rosiness of her cheeks and nose. He supposed it suited her. But the girl…

"Oh…" he stepped away as the woman gave a sigh and rolled over as if in sleep. He'd healed the dent in her head, but not to perfection. It was mostly healed, but he'd purposefully left just enough of the injury to give her a headache when she woke up. If he was lucky, she might also feel a bit weak. She'd be fine after a day or so, but the remaining injury was just enough to make sure that she couldn't get up and walk away from him when they needed to talk; or if she'd tried, she'd at least be slower.

While she was out, he took the opportunity to search her clothes. Knowing that she would be asleep until dawn, he looked, seeking out anything that might identify who she was, that would give him a name! A letter, a tax reciept, even a-

He gasped as his fingers brushed her hand and visions flashed before his eyes.

_A building with a sign that said "Granny's Diner."_

_"Widow Lucus," his voice whispered in his own ear._

_Ruby-red._

_A woman who bore similar facial features._

_Her granddaughter._

_Extra pickles._

_A brown haired woman sitting across from him. He wasn't focused on her but her hands. He wanted desperately wanted to reach over and touch her again._

_"They smell delicious, Granny!"_

_"They are delicious! Didn't take any Dark Magic either! Oh, and uh, I charge extra for the pickles!"_

_He avoided the old woman's eyes._

_"I have a complicated relationship with her."_

He pulled away from the woman as the visions faded. He was overwhelmed by the information he'd received, but rather remarkably, he'd understood some of it. Most of it. Her name was Widow Lucas, or at least it would be one day. She would have a daughter who would have a daughter named…was it Ruby? Red? What he'd seen after that, the images…they were of a world not like this one, though somehow the walls had resembled this forest. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to piece it back together. All he saw were trees on the walls. And Granny…she was Granny.

Though…as he opened his eyes and looked her over…he reckoned she was a teenager but ages could be difficult to pinpoint. Still, she was certainly no more than twenty. Old enough to be a mother, possibly, maybe be newly married, but not enough to have grandchildren! Granny?

And what the hell was a diner and why was it hers?!

Before him, she gave another sigh and continued to sleep, but the noise brought him out of the future and into the present. When she woke, she'd be hungry, all werewolves were, at least that was what the books said. A little bit of his magic shielded them from the hoard, and a little bit more had the fire blazing, and fish cooking close to morning's light. Waiting was no longer an issue for him. Perhaps it had been when Bae had first gone away, but now hours could pass as though they were seconds, and by the time the fish were done cooking, the sun had risen over the horizon and it felt like no time at all. He placed the delicacies on a leaf and pushed the leaf close to the woman's face, then stepped back and watched.

Like a dog, her nose sniffed, sensing something different in the air. Her body jerked and moved, as if suddenly the feeling of cold from the snow had finally overwhelmed her. Then, finally, she opened one bleary eye, opened the other, and gazed at the fish before her…and pounced!

"Oh!" She was quick to dive into what was presented there for her. She was lucky he'd taken out the bones, otherwise she would have easily choked on the things as she shoved it all into her mouth. She ate it faster than he'd ever seen Baelfire eat, and considering the fact that his boy had been well into his adolescence, that said something.

"Careful, Dearie!" he hollered out from the other side of the fire circle. "Wouldn't want to fall prey to poisoned fish now, would you?"

The girl looked up at him and stared. It was a different kind of stare than he'd expected. Usually, when he revealed himself, people were quick to jump up and stay back, startled and frightened. She was startled, her heartbeat revealed that much, but she didn't jump to her feet. She didn't even alter the way she was laying there perched over her food! Instead, she just stared quietly at him from under her eyelashes, suddenly aware she wasn't alone. He watched as she took a deep breath through her nose, subtly smelling what she held before popping the last of it in her mouth.

"The only poison there is that it's overcooked," she challenged as she chewed. After her last bite was devoured, she finally sat up and looked around. She lived in the village, there was no doubt about it. As she looked at the woods around her, he watched as the confusion on her face melted into recognition, and she zeroed in on trees just over her shoulder. The way home, he assumed.

"Who are you?" she asked, turning back to him with suspicious eyes. "How did I get here? And…what am I wearing?!" she exclaimed, suddenly holding her arms out and observing the cloak around her shoulders.

He smiled as he pushed himself off the log he'd been resting on. She was intrigued. That was good. He needed her to be intrigued.

"Call it 'payment in advance'!" he chimed, being purposefully mysterious. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am...Rumpelstiltskin!" he announced, lowering himself into a bow, "also known as The Dark One. And you are…"

He offered his hand to her, and she looked up at it from her spot on the ground before finally turning instead to play with the cloak's clasp.

"Going home!" she responded before pushing her legs under her and trying to stand. Fortunately, he'd thought ahead, and what was left of her injury had her stumbling and reaching out for him to regain her balance.

"Careful, Dearie!" he exclaimed as he helped her sit down on the log behind her. "That was a nasty knock you took to the head last night." Immediately her hand flew to the front of her head, the place where the dent would have been, and he watched as confusion and worry clouded her eyes. She hardly noticed when he took her arm in his hand. "And that is a nasty bite you have there…"

Their eyes met for a moment as they both considered what he was looking at, then she yanked her arm away from him.

"That's none of your concern."

"Oh, on the contrary! 'Tis the concern of every gentleman and woman you threaten in this town!"

"Threaten?!"

"Well, of course! I wonder, how long have you been afflicted by that little mark there?"

"It's nothing!" she yelled, getting to her feet again, though he noted that she was shaking. "A gift…from the creature who killed my father and brothers."

He let himself giggle in amusement because that was the least of what that scar was. It was the point of infection. "A gift from a creature like what you've become…a werewolf!"

Her gaze was maddening. It was something he'd never seen before. Neither fear nor attraction lay in it, only anger. And perhaps a bit of stubbornness. She leaned forward when most people looked for any excuse to move away from him.

"No," she stated clearly through clenched teeth.

He laughed again because though she'd denied it, the truth of it was in her eyes. She knew, she just didn't want to admit it. "Well, surely, you must have figured it out by now!"

"No!" she stated, getting up and moving away from the circle. Her footsteps fell so hard her wobble nearly disappeared.

"Haven't you noticed…the way smells and tastes come to you like they hadn't before?"

"No."

"An odd urge to run and jump, an even odder urge to bathe in the moonlight as it flutters through the trees?"

"No!"

He grabbed her by the arm before she could get too far away. "Yes!"

"Let me go!"

But he didn't! He couldn't. "You have noticed, three days a month, you disappear, wake up somewhere you didn't fall asleep, because you are fighting what you've become!"

Truth. There was nothing but truth in her hard, steely eyes as they watered, but no tears came of it. "What I have become is none of your business," she spat before yanking her arm out of his grasp and turning away. But it was his business, especially while she still wore his cloak.

"None of that, Dearie!" he proclaimed before using his magic to take them farther into the forest, so they stood on the edge of a cliff. There were few places she could go now. And it scared her. Though she had anger and severe tension in her face when she turned back to him, he'd seen the way her shoulders had shaken before she'd turned.

"Who are you?!" she cried. "What do you want?! Why won't you just let me go?! You must have something better to do than harass a woman like me!" Demands. No crying, no begging, no pleading. Just furious, logical questions. It seemed for this one fear only led to more anger.

"Not until you've heard my proposal?"

"Proposal...what 'proposal'?"

He smiled as he stepped closer, sensing her curiosity even through her frustration. "I…can…help you!" he declared with a happy laugh, hoping that if he was excited, she might get excited as well. This girl wasn't the fearful, unhappy being he'd anticipated dealing with, but she was strong enough that she could help him with what he needed, and he'd sensed enough pain in her denial to know that he'd come prepared to make deals. Hell, she was already wearing exactly what he'd have given her to help with her self-loathing problem.

"Behold!" he announced, flinging his arms out toward her, "a cloak of red! Made it myself right down to the last thread! Bit big…but you'll grow into it."

The woman, "Granny", as he was coming to think of her grabbed the edges of the cloak that was still buckled over her shoulders and examined it. After a few moments, she shook her head and let the mantle fall down around her shoulders.

"How does a red cloak help me?" she questioned with irritation. He couldn't tell if she was growing furious with him, or with herself for giving in.

"Because this cloak…" -he stepped up next to her again so he could whisper the secret in her ear- "is magic!" When he moved away he let his mouth hang open, and his eyes go wide with the shock she should be feeling; the shock that she wasn't showing on her face at all. Perhaps she just didn't understand what that magic had done for her last night, and what it could do for her tonight. "Wear this cloak on the nights of the full moon, and you'll find that your mind is your own. Your body won't change. You'll remain just as human as…well…as human as I once was."

She squinted her eyes at him in suspicion, looking him over skeptically before one of those hands reached out to her side to grab the cape once more. She glanced at it again, but only for a few moments before looking back up at him with distrust. A keen one this "Granny" was. Whatever children or grandchildren she managed to have, Ruby Red, would not soon evade her sharp mind.

"Why?" she finally asked, tossing it back over her shoulder as if it was nothing. She was trying to detach herself from it, trying not to get her hopes up. "Why would you do this? Why…why would you help me? Nothing in this world is for free."

He took in a dramatic gasp that made her jump. "At last! Someone who speaks my language!" he exclaimed before putting his fingertips together and beginning to circle. She was tough, but she was still a woman, and they were delicate. She had a fear of being the wolf that she was, which meant she knew what death and murder could do to others. He had to tread very lightly with this one. Perhaps even take his time. But what was time for him? The contract had held no time restrictions; therefore he had quite literally all the time in the world.

"Alas, I find myself with a bit of a pest problem that needs to be taken care of. It's not the job for a woman, but just the right job for a wolf."

She didn't let him circle the way others usually did. Her gaze followed him, turning as he moved around him, her eyes hawk-like, ever vigilant, taking in every detail. It was a shame she'd never become cursed as he was, he had the dreadful feeling she might be just as good at it as he was. A worthy opponent.

"Pest problem? Bugs?"

He let out a giggle. Knowing what Alexandra's husband had done, that wasn't an inaccurate description.

"A bug of sort. A very tricky species. But trust me, the world would be far better off without this particular insect if you agree to help me."

She shook her head and swallowed. "I'm not a fool, Rumpelstiltskin. This is no bug we're talking about. This is a person, a human being, isn't it?!"

He let himself laugh if only because there would be no use at denying it. Ignorance was bliss. If she'd agreed to help, he would have made all the arrangements, and in her blackout, she need never have known exactly what she'd done. Now, there was no denying it.

"Clever girl. It would be easy, a simple agreement. Simply cast away the cloak one night, and I'll bring this pest to you! And from there, what happens…happens!" he shrugged. He watched carefully as her eyes narrowed even more than they already had, and she took a step away from him. That was bad, a very bad sign indeed. The deal was failing, he was losing her, and all over one little detail he'd tried to avoid! "Don't make rash decisions, Dearie!" he inserted before she could disagree. "I'll tell you what…keep the cloak, try it out, wear it for a month. I'll be back at the end of the next full moon. Until then…enjoy!"

With a snap of his fingers, he burst into smoke and vanished from her gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's our Granny! She was fun to write. I really enjoyed putting all of her chapters together but I liked the ones where Rumple and Granny spoke with each other the best. It should be pretty easy to see her older self in the chapter, her stubborn fearlessness. It's not as obvious in this chapter as it will be in the next chapter but Rumple does find it very attractive. He has something of a crush on her though he'd never admit it. I did that, for one reason, because Granny is a strong woman and I think between Belle and Cora and even (gag me) the Evil Queen we can all agree that Rumple has a thing for strong women. I think he'd even fess up to that. So it seemed very in character for him to have a crush on this younger version of Granny. Also, I did it to show that Belle and even Cora are not random anomalies. He is a man. He feels things like any man would and attraction is one of those things. Besides, when Belle comes along, this little crush will play its own role.
> 
> Thank you so much for commenting RolfB. I appreciate it more than you know. I hope that you are enjoying these chapters so far. Next we have another Granny/Rumple chapter before we arrive back to Stephen and Donna because I didn't forget them! In the meantime, I hope you'll enjoy his chapter! Let me know! Peace and Happy Reading!


	14. An Unseen Complication

He had to hand it to his client, Alexandra; she had the gift of patience. He wouldn't have assumed that from a woman who had demanded a painful, revenge-filled death for the man who had made her life a nightmare after his indiscretions. A month later, when her husband was obviously still up and walking around, he had expected to be summoned by her to provide a timeline. But she hadn't done that. Either she had complete faith in him and the contract, or she'd come to regret the decision she'd made and wasn't contacting him in hopes that he'd forgotten. But Rumpelstiltskin never forgot a deal, the contract was signed, and the fact that in the last month he'd had no breakthroughs with the teacup he felt so attached to made him eager to collect the rest of the tea set so he could begin to put together this mystery.

One month after his first encounter with the wolf, on the last night of the full moon, he returned to her. The young woman he'd ironically come to refer to as "Granny" in his mind had never actually given him her name. But the cloak was full of his magic. The second he reappeared in the woods he'd last seen her in, he felt the pull of his magic. It wasn't difficult to track from there.

The woman lived in a small house that sat atop a little hill in a large clearing. Smoke rose from the chimney, and as was typical for this time of the year there was a fresh blanket of snow on the ground, which made it very easy not only to know what had happened during the nights of the full moon, but also track the girl now. The footprints on the ground were human only. Not a single paw print. This meant that unless Granny had transformed outside of the house last night, she hadn't shifted at all. And the single line of tracks that went from the front door of the house to the little chicken coop close by told him that she was inside.

Opening doors was beyond him. It was a simple thing that humanized him. Over the decades, he'd learned that the best way to separate himself from those that he helped was never to do simple things like open and close doors. It was best to use magic, or, when introducing himself, simply use the art of surprise to appear far more menacing than he actually was. He positioned himself in the path between the house and the chicken coop, and a few moments later, the door swung open.

"Jeez!" Granny jumped in surprise and nearly dropped the eggs she'd collected in her basket as she grabbed at her chest. He was pleased to see his red cloak draped over her shoulders.

"Well, well, well…we meet again."

"How the hell did you find me?!" she demanded as her heart rate settled.

He opened his mouth to simulate a scoff. "Oh, such language from a lady! How inappropriate!"

"You scared me half to death, you're lucky that's all you heard! How did you find me?"

He grinned. He'd forgotten how much he liked Granny in the month since they'd met, just how unafraid and unyielding she was. It was attractive. Were he a younger man he might have acted on that attraction…but he wasn't younger. He was the father of Baelfire. And nothing mattered except finding his son.

"You have something that belongs to me," he admitted. "And I did promise I'd be back after the full moon. Tell me, was the cloak to you…satisfaction?" he questioned without a doubt in his mind that it had been. Not only was he confident in his magic, the look that accompanied the sigh she let out told him all he needed to know. But hearing the words wasn't too bad either…

"It does as you say," she admitted leaning over to set her basket of eggs on the ground. She reached out to grab the fabric behind her and pulled it around herself as if it helped to shield her from the cold. He knew it didn't. The material was thin, meant to be worn summer as well as winter. Whatever it was protecting her from now wasn't the cold. "It was the first time I haven't blacked out during the full moon since I was twelve. I stayed human," she confirmed before glancing up at him with a curious gaze that was clearly wondering how he'd react.

"So, we have accepted the truth about what we are then, have we?"

"There is no 'we'," she stated boldly. "It's me. Only me! And…I think I always knew, I just…I never wanted to admit it before. But that doesn't mean that I'll ever accept what I am, or embrace it as you said!"

That was fine. It was a shame, as far as he was concerned, but for his purposes right now, despising herself worked in his favor.

"Then I suppose you'll be needing that cloak to keep the beast at bay."

There was a pause, a very audible pause where words were meant to be. And a look, a sharp piercing one as she narrowed her hawk-like eyes at him in a different way. It was as if she was seeing something for the first time rather than this being their second encounter. It was unsettling, not knowing exactly what was going on in her bloody mind!

"I've done some research on you Dark One…all magic comes with a price," she finally spoke. His mind began to race at the mere suggestion of research. What exactly did she know about him?

"Indeed it does. And the price for this magic we have already discussed," he reminded, trying to steer the conversation back to the task at hand. "Simply help me with my little pest problem, and the cloak is yours!"

He watched as she diverted her eyes away from him, looking off into the distant forest though the smirk on her face told him that she wasn't really looking at anything in particular and wasn't even really thinking. She was considering. She was going over the details again in her head, and it left a sour taste in his mouth. Deals were best made in the heat of the moment when an individual had no time to think. In this case he'd wanted her to use the cloak during this full moon and become so attached to it the idea of losing it would make her do anything he asked, but he was beginning to think that he'd made an error. Perhaps he should have approached her three days ago instead of a month ago, he should have let her have it for three days, using it each night, let her think it was more useful than it was, rather than giving her the opportunity to think. By the time she finally reached up to unbuckle the cloak from her neck, he wasn't surprised, and when she held it out between them and let it pool against the snow, he was already preparing his back-up plan.

"No," she stated firmly. "The cloak is…truly astounding. It'll keep me from being a monster a few days a month, but if I agree to this, if I help you murder this man, pest or not, then that will make me a monster forever, no matter what form I take."

"You are making a mistake," he growled, looking down at the red cloth against the snow. It looked like a pool of blood, perhaps that was why it had assumed that color.

"No," Granny responded, shaking her head with an outwitting smirk on her face. "Everything inside of me screams that making a deal with you would be the mistake. The cloak is amazing, but I won't kill to have it. If that means chaining myself up night after night after night to be sure I can't hurt anyone, then that is the way it will be." She reached down then and picked up her basket of eggs. "I make no deal with you, Rumpelstiltskin. Find another fool to take advantage of." And with that dismissal, she marched boldly around him as she left to go back inside the house.

She truly had done her research. She'd said the magic words. By stating no deal with him, she'd ended their association so undeniably he felt the very magic inside of him rebel at the thought of her. Ordinarily, with no further use for the girl, he'd have killed her, and as he turned to watch her walk back into the house, he had to admit the anger inside of him made it a temptation. A simple snap of his fingers would yield a snap of her neck, and a wave of his hand could blow a gust of wind that would wave a branch right into her head, and it would be all over. It was tempting, but he was smart enough to know it would also be wasteful. There was more than one way to get what he wanted, and with a genuine werewolf within his grasp, he saw one advantage to her blissful refusal to embrace all that she was…ignorance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist! Oh, come on! This is Granny we're talking about! You didn't think she'd say "yes" and keep the cloak now, did you? Too easy! So, if she refuses the cloak, how does she end up with it? Why would she lie to Ruby later and tell her that she got it from a wizard? What role to Stephen and Donna play in all of this? Well...it's complicated. At the heart of it all I wanted to give Granny and Rumple the complicated relationship he spoke of and that is something we will see in the next chapter!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm so happy that little surprise with Granny went over well. I'm happy you like it and I hope you are going to continue to like these last few chapters in this section. Granny finishes out the Beginning Section so once we're done with Granny's story we'll be on to section two! Peace and Happy Reading!


	15. The Perfect Plan

Donna and Stephen; he'd gone through a lot of trouble to learn those names. He'd spent many nights spying on Jiminy Cricket and his new friend Geppetto, only to find that for once in their miserable lives Myrna and Martin had been telling the truth about the names of the "new puppets for the show." Fate worked in mysterious ways. At first, he'd lamented the loss of Martin and Myrna under his thumb, they weren't much, but at least he'd know what he was getting with the pair of them. Donna and Stephen were an unknown factor. The first time he'd made them human to assess their worth, he'd realized he was in luck. They were a young couple, so young their faces born little trace of stress or deceit. They were clean, baby-faced, and that made them easier to trust than Myrna and Martin. Though they had been good at playing the role of invalid and elderly, Donna and Stephen were welcoming, warm, and kind. They had faces that made it easy for others to have sympathy for, and trust with just a glance. And they were perfect for the job he had in mind.

In the two months since Granny's rejection, he'd learned that she was not the only werewolf in town, just the only one who didn't know or accept who she was. The Lucas Clan was a family of ten children, all of them wolves. He'd learned that every month at the full moon they left their home to go on a "hunting trip", which really meant they abandoned their home to go romp about the woods together. Happy as their little family trips seemed for them, it served a purpose for him, the small barn on their property was left unattended.

The potion that had turned Donna and Stephen into his puppets had ensured that none of their personality remained. And once he had their hearts in his hand and whispered instructions to them before placing them back in their chests, they were helpless but to do exactly as he told them to do. Stephen had one job in this, Donna had another.

Granny, he'd learned, made a living for her mother by selling pies that she made, breads as well. Every morning she took them into town hot and fresh in her little basket and stayed until they were all sold. She had a very unique strategy at the end of the day to be sure they all sold. She peddled food outside other places of business and only swore to leave when the pies were gone. The longer it took, the more of a nuisance she became. Eventually, the store owners bought her out just to make sure she'd leave.

On the final night of the full moon, he'd sent Donna into town with a horse, shapeshifted from a mouse he'd found in his castle, a cart, and a thick, heavy chain in the back. She left the cart in the square, and when Granny began to show, she pulled the chain out, only to struggle to push it back in again. He watched from the trees, underneath a heavy cloak that blocked his scent and hid most of his face. He blended in. Donna did not.

"Oh! Oh, please! Help me! Could you please help me?! Help!" Predictably, Granny, who was on her last pie of the day and just so happened to be standing outside the same store, put down her basket and came to her aid. The blessing of werewolves was that they retained certain abilities even in their human form, and he watched as Granny hefted the chain with ease. "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" Donna choked out as she put her hand to her chest and tried to catch her breath. "Boy…you're strong!"

"What's the chain for?" Granny questioned, ignoring her praise and looking it over in the back. He'd chosen that chain for that very reason. If she was serious about chaining herself up, he was about to find out.

"Oh, you know…this and that," Donna answered. My husband and I just moved here and we're still getting the house done."

"Why isn't he helping you?"

"Oh, he's off at work like everyone else. Men! It seems to be all the men in this town do: work!"

"Well, tonight is the night of the full moon so, actually, later, all the men will be-"

"Hunting!" Donna provided quickly. "Oh, we know, someone already told us! Can you believe it?!" Donna shook her head and put her hand on her hip. "That poor creature. I just…I feel so bad for that poor wolf. They've labeled it a beast but it just doesn't seem fair. I think half the reason it gets so riled up during the full moon is because everyone goes after it with torches and pitchforks. I mean, if you were just minding your own business and someone started chasing you, wouldn't you get a little miffed?"

"Right…" Granny muttered. Her eyes had gone dark, blurred, sort of. She appeared distant as Donna spoke, and it was exactly what he wanted. That was exactly what he'd prepared Donna for after her sympathies were made known.

"You know…I know I don't know you very well, we've…we've only just met, but you look like you could use someone to talk to?" she offered with the friendly, innocent smile he was positive Myrna could never have pulled off.

Granny's eyes focused once more, first on the chain in the back and then on the woman before her. "Oh, no, that's just…that's just how I look," she dismissed.

"Are you sure?" Donna pressed in a warm tone. "I'm a really good listener, and you did help me with this chain. We could go back to my place!" she suggested with excitement. "Maybe you could teach me how to make one of those pies, and we'll tell each other all our secrets!"

Granny gave a small snort but didn't share the same look of enthusiasm Donna did. He was worried, this had to work, it was the last night of the full moon, they couldn't keep coming up with ideas. He summoned his magic and found the magical connection that pulsed from him to Donna.

"Press harder!" he snarled under his breath.

"Oh, please!" she begged immediately. "You're the first friendly face I've met since coming here, and I haven't really had anyone to talk to myself. My husband and I live so far from town."

"Yeah, well, everyone lives far from town out here."

"Yes, I've noticed," she muttered with a wilt in her voice. "Please, I'd be glad for the company. And you know, you've sold all but one pie. We could split it! Come with me?"

Granny cast a predictable look at the mid-afternoon sky, and a few minutes later, she nodded.

That was part of the plan, but Donna's job wasn't done yet. He followed them home, but this time he stayed high up in the firm branches of the trees where he could watch their progress, and his scent would be truly distant from Granny. It was going to be a long day; he knew that much. To the average person, it might appear that he'd accomplished his goal simply by getting Granny to go with Donna, but he wasn't a simple person. He was the Dark One, and he'd already judged that Granny wasn't the type to disclose her secret to a stranger on their first meeting, no matter how sympathetic or friendly she was. No, Donna's job of kindness was only half the job, the other half was endurance. For from now until the sunset, Donna was not to leave Granny's side, no matter if she begged, yelled, screamed, hit, or ran. Ultimately it wasn't out of trust that Granny would tell her the secret; it would be out of fear.

Once they arrived at the empty Lucus house and went inside, he lounged amidst the branches and attuned his other senses to what was happening inside that house. He watched as Donna carefully shut the curtains to the outside world one by one so that she couldn't see out and as smoke began to rise from the chimney. He heard a basic conversation about how long they'd lived there, lies about how Donna and Stephen had bought the house, what they were doing to decorate it. He heard descriptions of the townspeople, stories about Granny's mother and grandmother, he even had Donna question her about the scars on her arm. Granny answered with a sad version of the story she'd told him about her brothers and father, and then…it began.

Suddenly he heard Granny's heart begin to race. She realized how late it was; she'd lost track of time, she had to go!

"No, wait…I'll take you back on the cart. Surely you can't walk home in the dark. There are wolves out!" Donna stressed as Granny stormed out of the home.

"No!" she argued sharply, "I've lived here my whole life. I'll be fine, you needn't worry."

"Your word doesn't prevent it! And…I can't. I can't let you walk back by yourself. I'll walk with you."

"No! No, you can't!" Granny insisted, finally turning around to face her. If not for his perfect eyesight, it would have been difficult to see them in the dying light, the woman must have known that.

"Why can't I?"

"You just, you can't!" he watched as Granny began to jog away. But Donna, helpless against his wishes, jogged along beside her.

"What I can't do is let you go out there by yourself! Not this late, not with wolves and a hunting party out there!"

"Stop! You don't understand; you can't be around me right now, it's dangerous!"

"Dangerous? I've just spent the afternoon with you, what's dangerous?"

The woman was on edge, very aware of the path the moon was taking, and with his magic he created a howl that rose up in some distant place in the forest that made the young women stop in their tracks. She looked around with wide, terrified eyes. It was too late. And now her eyes fell on the cart by the door still weighed down by the heavy chain that Granny had helped lift. It was a perfect temptation. Just as he'd planned.

"Donna…I need your help!" she exclaimed suddenly, reaching out to take her hands.

"Yes, of course, anything, you need only ask."

"I need you to do something for me that's going to sound crazy, no questions asked."

Donna swallowed as if nervous, but the flicker of kindness never went out in her eyes. She was, in many ways, the perfect puppet. "Ask," she urged.

"I need you to take that chain you got at the market and chain me up inside your barn, make sure all the animals are out and don't come back until morning. No questions asked, can you do it?"

"Are…are you sure?"

"Yes! Can you do it?"

Of course, she could. It was the plan all along. If Granny found anything suspicious about the easy agreement, then she didn't mention it as the women hulled the chain into the barn together. A few minutes later only Donna emerged holding the key she'd used to lock her away. She closed the door behind her and locked it. Task complete, her shoulders instantly straightened, the kindness in her eyes evaporated into blankness, and the personality he'd given her faded. She walked with unnatural precision back to the house to await her next orders. Her job was done, and marvelously so, but he he'd worry about turning her back into a doll later because Stephen's job was only just beginning.

He'd sent him to work in the fields that day, to chop wood as Alexandra's husband would and then instructed him to join the hunt for the wolf for a very specific purpose.

"Hey, did you hear that?" he questioned, pulling Jethero to the side of the group. When he found the group, there were perhaps twenty of them, and they were going in the wrong direction. But he wasn't worried Stephen had his orders.

"Hear what?" Jethero asked, looking annoyed.

"That howl…hey, listen…I hear they are offering twelve shillings to anyone who can kill this wolf!"

That caught his attention. "Twelve shillings…I've never heard that before…who are you? I've never seen you before."

"I'm new here, just got into town today actually. But I've been hunting since I was six so when I heard about the search party, I knew I had to leave my wife at home and help. It's my duty, you know." In the treetops above, Rumpelstiltskin let out a small snort. Stephen did play his role well, though he had to admit that the bow and arrow he'd given him to hold certainly helped him look the part, especially next to the others who held only heavy branches for bludgeoning and pitchforks. Jethero seemed impressed. "So, when was the last time anyone killed one of these things?"

Jerthero shrugged. "Never, it's eluded us for years."

Stephen let out a sigh and shook his head. "They're going the wrong direction…"

"Okay…well then let's tell them and-"

"No!" he hissed before pulling Jethero to the side, away from the rest of the group blindly trampling through the forest. "We tell the group, and we have to split those shillings with everyone, we'll be lucky to keep two pence for ourselves, but…if we go together…" Stephen breathed before looking him over first with skepticism, then with judgment. The look he gave afterward suggested that Jethero was lacking but would do for the task at hand, and by the look on his face, it seemed like Jethero read that look as easily as if he'd said it. "Listen, I'm new here, I don't know this forest, but I bet you do. Help me capture this creature and make sure I don't get lost along the way, and we'll split the reward money, fifty-fifty."

Stephen straightened the quiver of arrows on his back before offering his hand to Jethero. There was a pause that he hadn't counted on, he figured a lowlife like Jethero would be pleased to take up such a deal without a second thought, but he did think about it for a few moments before he finally put his hand in Stephen's they shook with a nod.

"Fifty-fifty…" he agreed. Some people would do anything for money.

He followed them as they went in the opposite direction of the group, who didn't even seem to notice they were gone, only instead of hiding in the trees, he walked a fair distance behind them, darting behind trees whenever he got a moment. Unlike the women who were chatty, the men were quieter but strategic. As they wandered, Jethero provided the little bit of intel he could about where they were, who the property belonged to, what they were hearing, and Stephen provided an appropriate amount of bull shit regarding what he really didn't know about hunting a werewolf. All he did know was that they were nearing the property they were supposed to be at, and he knew it without Jethero having to say "we're right at the edge of the Lucas property, poor goat farmers, I think they sell milk and make cheese at the market, but I haven't seen them the last few days, and they never go on this hunt with us. They're reclusive and sort of-"

"Shh!" Stephen finally hissed as they made their way to the edge of the treeline so that the barn and house were both in sight. He was thankful that Granny was silent inside that barn, it hadn't dawned on him until this moment he should have put a silencing charm over it.

"What?"

"Hush!" Stephen insisted. "Stop moving!" With perfect fluidity, he reached over his shoulder, drew out an arrow, and notched it as Jethero stopped and watched him with scared eyes. Stephen remained vigilant, looking about, or at least appearing to look about and listen to everything. "I think…maybe…it's behind us…" he finally whispered.

"What?!"

"Shh!"

Rumpelstiltskin smirked as he stepped forward onto a branch he saw lying on the ground and deliberately let it snap. Jethero jumped. He looked over his shoulder and began to whimper when his pathetic human eyes turned up only darkness.

"When I give the word, run as fast as you can to the nearest shelter, don't look back, don't do anything until I come for you, am I clear?"

Jethero nodded quickly, his entire body trembling. Miserable, adulterating cur.

"On the count of three. One…two…three…go! Run!" Stephen cried as the pair of them took off in the direction of the Lucas barn. Stephen ran with him for a bit, until Jethero broke through the treeline. "That barn! There! Go!" he had Stephen shout, then, just because he could Rumple waved his arm and Stephen dropped to the ground with his quiver and bow, only now, Stephen was only a puppet of wood again. It was an easy disappearing act, but simple enough that when Jethero got to the door and looked back for Stephen, he was terrified to see him gone. He made a small noise of fear as he lifted the lock, opened the barn door, and quickly closed it behind him. Only then did Rumpelstiltskin emerge from the shadows and cast a new spell over the entrance to ensure that it was well and truly locked.

He smiled as a feeling of satisfaction passed over him. One monster had taken refuge from another in a barn without knowing the real terror was inside. It was a plan well executed.

He'd barely had time to smile with pride before the screaming began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is still one last chapter in this "episode that never was", but this is not the last appearance of the dolls! They are going to be with us and useful for another month or two, but they have run their coarse in this section for now. I hope you like how I used them and can see how they might be useful in other chapters. My only regret with them here would be that if I was writing the series, I would have had his "episode" come before Jiminy's so that Rumple using dolls would have come as a surprise twist and then Jiminiy's story could have been their origin as well. But there's nothing that can be done about that, I worked with what I had!
> 
> Thank you, RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I'm so glad that I caught some of you by surprise! How does this chapter do for surprises? Did you think the dolls might be used in this way? Did you like it? How do you feel about this little twist in Granny's tale? Let me know, and I'll see you in the next chapter when we find out how Granny feels about it! Spoiler alert...she's not happy. Peace and Happy Reading!


	16. The Deal That Never Was

The deed was done far before dawn's earliest light; there wasn't a doubt about that in his mind. The deal was done. Jethero was dead. When his body finally was found, there would be no denying it was not Alexandra who killed him, and by all accounts, he should be well on his way to picking up the rest of his tea set by now. Actually, by the time the sun rose, he acknowledged that he should have picked up his tea set hours ago and be home studying it by now trying to identify it's importance in the future. But there he sat, still up in the trees looking down at the barn, unmoving, just like he had been all night.

He told himself that it was just to be sure, to make absolutely positive that Jethero was dead, but the truth was he didn't need to see the carnage to know and it wasn't what he was waiting for. What he was really waiting for was-

That.

For nearly as soon as the sun rose, he heard a scream emerge from that barn, high pitched and blood-curdling. But he didn't take any satisfaction from it. In fact, he didn't know why it affected him quite the way it did. Granny had turned him down and he'd resorted to doing what he knew he had to in order to make the deal work, but somehow…her scream rang out in his ears, repeating over and over again. His heart was hard these days. He had very few cares in the world and yet this Granny, this…girl-she had found one of those soft spots. And in the night, the idea of walking off and leaving her to this alone had seemed wrong in a way that the murder of Jethero had not.

In the middle of the night, after the screams of Jethero had given way to nothing but the sounds of ripping flesh he'd gone back into the house to send his puppets back to the castle where they belonged and also had grabbed the key Donna had used to lock her away with. Now, though he was two dozen feet up in the air at least, he easily slid off of the branch he sat on and the next minute was safely on the ground. At the door of the barn, he heard no motion, no tugging or pulling on the chain that bound her, only the sound of weeping. Weeping…from this woman...it sounded as silly as saying she was bleating! And yet, when he finally removed the spell he'd placed on the barn door and opened it, he saw that he wasn't wrong. She was a huddled mass against the far wall, her head was in her hands, and her body shook from the sobs that came screaming out of her mouth. At least until the barn door opened and the light flooded in.

Scared and afraid were two words he'd never thought would describe this woman, but they were all he could think to use for the look in her eyes as she finally turned her head to look up at the figure before her. A moment later he knew that she was aware of who he was, and she scrambled to her feet.

"You!" she screamed as she looked around the scene in front of her. And what a scene it was too. Now that he let his eyes roam as her own did he could see the bloody pulp of a mess on the ground that was once a man. There was blood on the walls, bloody paw prints on the ground, scratch marks on the wood. Alexandra had truly gotten her wish…Jethero had suffered. And now Granny…

"You…you tricked me!" she cried as she slowly came to the realization of what had happened. "You tricked me into…oh…what have I done?!" She put her hands to her head and sank down against the back wall again as she cried the chains around her clacking and clanging with her movements.

"You've done exactly as I intended," he explained in a low voice, his natural voice. There was no need to toy with her, no need to put on a show. She desired nothing of him now but answers and there was no reason why she shouldn't have them. "You can rest assured, Dearie, that what you've done is squash a pest, a true insect."

She shook her head as her eyes remained focused on the former body. "No one deserves this…"

"He was a philanderer. A swine. And now, thanks to you, there can be no doubt to the authorities that he was not killed by the wife or children he's tormented with his lies and deceit. They'll have enough money to survive the winter and get back on their feet before the wife remarries."

"And what was in it for you?" she demanded finally looking back up at him. Her eyes were red, her face swollen from the tears she'd shed, but he could still see the anger in her, he could hear the bit of it in her tone. "Why did you care about them? What was worth all of that? All of this?!"

Oh, she was a sympathetic sight, that much was certain, but he wasn't stupid enough to fall for those doe eyes no matter how attractive her fire was. She was too good for him, and the answer that she was after wasn't even really clear to him yet, though he doubted she'd find that and acceptable excuse.

"That's my business. It's nothing that concerns you…at least not yet."

"Not yet…" she choked out a laugh that was somewhere between a snort and a sob. "What does that mean?"

In truth, he hadn't known what it meant, not until she'd asked. Not until he told himself that he should go and leave her be and the monster that lived within his own skin rebelled and reminded him what a wonderful tool a creature with her abilities could be! She might look sad and pathetic now, but she was a strong woman underneath it all. Having her on his side could be helpful, at least until he figured out the images and riddles coming into his mind.

"You think yourself a monster-"

"I am a monster!" she bit back, rising to her feet so quickly the chain still tied around her arm rattled. "You may have set out all the ingredients Rumpelstiltskin, but I'm the one that made the cake! I did this! Me! And that makes me a monster!"

He took a few deep breaths. He didn't particularly care for being yelled at or interrupted but given her state, he could excuse it.

"You think yourself a monster, but you are not. Not really. There are many werewolves in our realm, an entire family has lived right under your nose for decades before you came along and you never knew it because they can control themselves. Your troubles come from a lack of control. You fight the wolf inside of you and so it always wins. Accept what you are, and control becomes yours. You'll be naught but an ordinary wolf once a month, not hunted, not a murderer. I can help you come to accept what you are…if you give me the chance."

So that was what it was. He hadn't realized what he'd found so compelling about the woman until this very moment, until he'd begun his temptation, but now he saw it. She was him. Years ago after receiving the Dark Curse. She was who he'd been then when he'd been unwilling to truly embrace his new nature and the fight against it had cost him everything, including Baelfire! He saw himself in her eyes. Along with her potential.

But what he saw didn't matter. All that mattered was what Granny saw when he offered his hand to her. And as she looked quickly between that hand and the bloody scene over his shoulder, he was fairly certain that she didn't see things the way he did.

"No," she stated stepping away the little she could with the chain still attached to her wrist. "No, I won't do that! I won't be the monster you think I am and I will never be indebted to you in any way! I will never, ever, be this…again!"

He knew a desperate soul when he saw one, which meant that despite what she thought, he also recognized a satisfied soul. She meant every word she'd said, and that meant there was no deal to be made. He'd keep her in his sights, watch her grow into the "Granny" he already thought of her as, but this was the last of their transactions. He felt it just as much as he knew it. And before he left, he felt an odd compulsion to do what he'd never done before as the Dark One, magic at no cost…even if he knew it would rebound and make him worse than he was. He simply thought of it as the fulfillment of the deal that never was.

From beneath his own cloak he pulled out the brilliant red one he'd made and originally intended to give to her. He dropped it at her feet the way she had dropped it at his before all this.

"Keep the cloak, Dearie, blame the destruction on the wolf, and leave this place. The realm may never know we ever met. Use it, tell your family a wizard gave it to you, if they ask, put this behind you and live your life as you intended."

Her eyes…she had suck striking eyes. Firm and observant, but at the same time whoever had once said the eyes were the window to the soul must have known her because they were. She didn't say thank you, but he knew that the tears in her eyes were not only tears of anger as well as sadness and pain, but now mingled with tears of gratitude. She'd never say thank you, she wasn't that type of person, but he knew the cloak made all the difference.

His head turned as he began to hear voices outside. Male voices. They smelled blood. The Lucas family had returned from their own dalliances with the full moon. And so he used his magic to leave her there in the barn, the key to her chain still with him. He'd let that woman discover on her own that he'd dropped her into the barn of wolves just like her. They had a son about her age, and foresight had proven that future generations would someday come in handy. He trusted that, for what he'd seen had already come to pass. No matter what happened from this point on, whenever they encountered one another in the future, he had no doubt theirs would always be a complicated relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we have the conclusion to The Episode That Never Was. What did you think of Granny's section? We didn't have much info on Rumple and Granny during the show, just that nagging little comment about the pair of them having a complicated relationship. Now, for me, this chapter is really the crux of that comment. What makes a relationship "complicated"? In my mind, it means a relationship that is neither wholly negative or positive. To me, a complicated relationship has aspects of both. What makes their relationship complicated? Well, the negative, of course, is that Rumple gets Granny to kill the man, something she certainly didn't want to happen. But the positive comes at the end. She gets the cloak. Rumple gives her this great powerful object that she desperately wants so she can control her power. That object, as we know, will prove to be helpful later in life for her and her granddaughter. So, in my mind, when she looks back on this moment, she obviously doesn't like it, but she can't hate it either because it's the moment she got her cloak. I also used the "complicated relationship" to explain a bit of what we read in Red's Tale, the book that was published for Ruby and the OUAT writers say is canon. In that story, Red states that a wizard gave Granny the cloak but that's about it. It's never really gone into more than that. And after this event, I like to think that Granny is giving her granddaughter a half-truth. She's lying about these events because she doesn't want or need to explain them to Ruby, but also being honest in the fact that she got the cloak from a Wizard. And there you have it! A complicated relationship and an intact canon! Ta-da!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments! I'm super excited to hear how you feel about this chapter as well as this entire section because this is it! This is the last chapter in The Beginning Section! One down, seven to go! The next chapter will start the next section and I think you are really going to like the turn of events that awaits us in those chapters. In the meantime, I can't wait to hear your thoughts! Peace and Happy Reading!


	17. Hundred Year Itch

What the hell was wrong with him? He'd heard of a seven-year itch, and despite Milah's lack of attention after those first seven years of his marriage, he had not once managed a stray thought. But here he was, a hundred years after he'd first been married, making a deal and all he could focus on was the women in the tavern. He was eager to hear the information that his client was spewing, and yet every time the barmaid leaned over to pour more ale into his client's mug…

"Is that all you need? It is all I know."

He tore his eyes away from the barmaid's chest and glanced back at the man before him. Don, he went by the name Don, and the information in his head was worthless to others, merely the invention of a wild dream, or so his parents had told him. But he was eager to hear all of it. It was the answer to a mystery he'd been dying to find answers for since he'd acquired his foresight.

"So…you say he goes by the name Hook, now."

"Captain Hook, yes."

He smirked as he conjured an image of the Captain using Don's description as well as his own memories. "A fitting moniker for a man with a hook for a hand."

"Yes, but…you must understand…he's not the evil in that world! It's-"

"Peter Pan, yes, I know…

That was a sweet thought. He'd seen images of Jones in his mind's eye ages ago when he'd first taken on the Seer's power. Those images had not yet come to pass, and several of them, it was clear to him, did not take place in this realm judging from the clothes he'd seen. It had to mean that Jones was alive. But he was nearly as old as he was and didn't look a day over the age he'd seen him last in his visions. He'd wondered how he'd managed to survive with his youth this long. His side investigation had led him to Don Juan. A man willing to make a deal for the information he contained. It wasn't much, but it was enough to answer his questions.

Hook had used that bean that belonged to him to go to Neverland. Like his father, Hook had never grown old. He was probably there now! And as for the hand that was missing from his body, a hand that was currently resting in a jar of preserves in his castle tower, he was known to tell tales of losing it to a Crocodile that he would one day slay. In the hand's place, he now used a hook, earning him the name Captain Hook. Odd. It was a perfect fit for the man he pictured, a man now doomed to deal for an eternity in the service of his father for staying in Neverland. It was…hilarious. And it was all he needed to be prepared for the day that he returned to exact his revenge. It was perfect.

"You know…most little boys see Pan as the hero, enticing."

"I suppose…I didn't, but there were some boys there who had. The Shadow, he goes between worlds, he takes the boys who want to stay, and Pan makes them his Lost Boys. I fought back, the jungle made me eager for my own bed again, I ran right into Hook who was prepared to take me to Pan to save his own ship…I was happy to wake up from that nightmare again!"

"I can only imagine…"

And he would have been happy to imagine that, if one of the other barmaids across the way hadn't just giggled and sat down in a patron's lap. He felt an emotion he'd once recognized as envy stir within him and recalled the way other women had looked at him with the look that woman was giving that man right now. Not the look of fear, the look of desire. He'd never taken any woman up on their offers, there was Baelfire to consider after all, but at the moment he was suddenly aware of just how long it had been since he'd touched a woman, or any human being really. Perhaps he'd been wrong in turning away so many. What was that saying…would it have been better to "let some steam out of the pot"? Maybe then he might not feel as though he were surrounded by breasts.

"Please…Sir…our deal…" Don commented, his accent drawing his attention back to him. "My son needs a mother, and I am…woefully inadequate, you said you would help."

Yes, he did, and he intended to. For it wasn't just magic that came with a price, but all things, and that included women. Memories of Milah in the hovel reminded him of that high cost. Tempted as he was, he was certain that wasn't worth it. Don, however, had simpler requests. The cost of information had been helpful. He was shy, nothing but a tanner, he made a very small wage, had only one son who was too small to help him, and needed the very thing that he just so happened to be craving at the moment. A woman. He needed a woman to be his wife, to be a mother for his child, to help him in the shop. But in addition to his shyness, previous history, and lack of fortune, he was also a foreigner, which made most distrusting of him. No woman would willingly marry him, not without help, at least.

"But of course!" he stated with a smile and a tone he was certain would show old Don Juan he was eager to please. From within his jacket, he pulled out a small vial of potion he'd made himself, but wouldn't want, under any circumstances, to drink for himself. In addition to a small tonic of confidence, mixed in with this potion was a concoction to attract lust. Disgusting potion really. All that was really required for it was the mingled sweat of two lovers, which he'd fetched from an inn of questionable morals. It had been easy, nothing like figuring out the recipe for True Love, which he was determined to create one day. The thought of drinking a lust potion made his insides feel queasy…but at least it wasn't he who would be taking it.

"Drink this. It's sure to fetch you more than one woman to wife. Ah-ah!" he cried, snapping it away before he could take it. "Be warned, this potion has no reverse, the only way to stop it will be a kiss of True Love and…I rather doubt this will attract that flavor of individual."

The floor was shaking. Beneath the table, Don's foot was jerking up and down, up and down as he looked his prize over.

The barmaid at the table behind him had returned with more drinks, and this time it wasn't her breasts or curves that caught his attention but her face. She looked familiar somehow…

"I have no choice, Sir," Don Juan finally decided, taking the potion from his hand. "I do not care what attention it attracts. So long as my son has a mother, it will be worth it."

"Be gone then! Find…all your heart desires!" he answered with a sing-song voice.

He'd moved on before Don even opened the door to leave. The woman. He studied her, examining her face, her movements, looking for what was important, for something that might help to identify who she was.

"Cora!" the door slammed open nearly as soon as Don left, and though it was a chilly day out, it wasn't the air that gave him shivers. The name helped, but the angle of her face after her name had been called confirmed it. The dark-haired woman from his vision…Cora, the princess he needed to bear the child who would cast his curse, who would get him back the Baelfire! Oh, he could have cried or jumped with happiness at this development! Finding out about Hook was one thing, finding Cora, on the other hand and so easily she'd practically just fallen into his lap…he was speechless! He felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest with excitement! It was finally a hint that could give him a timeline! If she only knew how long he'd been waiting for her already!

But he wasn't the only one who had been looking for her.

The man who had pushed the door open with such force was now framed in the doorway, his eyes scanning the suddenly quiet tavern until he laid eye on her. Unlike him, she, as well as everyone else, had seen him come in, but she had a much different reaction to making eye contact with him. He moved forward, towards her. She moved immediately away.

"Where's my flour, girl?!" he exclaimed as she began pouring more ale into mugs, as if she was paying no attention to him at all.

"Why don't you try looking at the bakery. You should know better than I where your flour is kept."

"Don't talk back to me, child!"

She gasped as he grabbed her arm and swung her back around to face him before she could move away. He had the urge to stand up and pull her away, to put himself between the two of them. What stopped him was a sudden realization as he looked at the brazen way he'd touched her. The prophecy stated the child he needed was the firstborn of Princess Cora. So what was she doing here, serving beer in a tavern, with a baker asking her about flour and squeezing her arm so tight he'd probably leave bruises? This was the Cora he'd been waiting for, he was confident about that, the face he'd seen matched the name, but it still didn't make any sense.

"How am I to know where my flour is if it never makes it to the bakery. Your father was to have it to me this morning, it never arrived. I've cakes and pastries to make for the ball tonight. How am I to do that without flour?"

His temper suddenly got the better of him as the baker threw her across the room. She fell to the floor with a shriek. He was halfway to his feet when the tavern owner came to her aide. He didn't chastise the man as he so desperately wanted to; instead, he exchanged a few quiet words with Cora before he helped her to her feet. All around some had begun to ignore the pair. They'd turned back to the meals as if it was nothing, something that happened all the time. There were only a few left who, like him, continued to watch the scene unfold.

Cora scowled at the man, and she held her head up high as she narrowed her gaze and reached around to her back to untie her apron. Wordlessly she pushed it into the hands of the owner before marching to the door and gathering a cloak and gloves. Her eyes were challenging. She never removed them from the baker, but she never said anything either. She was daring him to say something more to him. So he did.

"Run along, Delivery Girl. And if you don't have that flour to me in the next hour-"

"You'll get your flour, Ivan!" she finally screamed, stepping up to him as she raised her hood. "You will have your precious flour for the King's ball, and you won't dare deduct a single cent! I need that money!"

A smile broke over Ivan's face. "Well, then perhaps you should have taken better care to watch that lazy father of yours!"

"I'm not my father's keeper!"

"If the royals don't eat, I don't eat, and if I don't eat-"

"Then I won't be fed either. So give me an hour, I'll fix it! Pig!" she called as she turned on her heel and left the tavern. But her insult wasn't lost on Ivan.

"What did you call me-e?!" He was on his way outside to follow Cora when he slammed his hand over his mouth after letting out a very loud inhuman squeal that stopped him in his tracks and allowed Cora to make her escape.

Well now, that was an interesting development. He glanced around the tavern to see if anyone had just noticed what he had. It appeared that most hadn't even realized Ivan had squealed, except, of course Ivan. But even then, he was positive no one had sensed what he had before that noise…it was magic.

Cora had magic.

Now all he needed was to make a Princess out of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to section two in The Dark Curse. I have appropriately named this section "The Cora Section". I have to be honest with you; when I first started writing The Dark Curse (heck, when I first started prompting for The Dark Curse) I was not looking forward to this section at all. What can I say...I'm a die-hard Rumbelle fan and I was less than enthusiastic about writing for Cora and Rumple's relationship. But, as I went through this section, I found myself pleasantly surprised, and I think you will be too. Yes, of course, it is heavy on the Golden Heart, but there is also a lot of set up for future chapters and fictions that happens that I think will keep you interested even through the Golden Heart stuff, especially in the next few chapters! And hey, if it reassures you at all, this section is just about as long as the last one, maybe a few chapters shorter, so just remember, we won't be here forever! And, if you need incentives, it ends with an awesome battle we never saw that answers a couple more unanswered questions!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter, I'm so happy you liked The Beginning Section, Granny's story, and how the dolls are going to be used. There was a lot in that section that initially seemed uninteresting or random, but I'm happy with the way it turned out! I hope that will be a good omen for the rest of the sections because we're just getting started! Peace and Happy Reading!


	18. The Miller's Daughter

She moved through the town quickly and quietly, keeping her head down and not talking to a single soul…before she moved off the path. Interesting. With nothing but her cloak and her wits she left the road and headed into the forest, stepping carefully over rock and soil. There was no path or trail and yet he knew the ground she walked over wasn't unfamiliar to her. She didn't look around for direction or an individual she was meeting, she didn't stop to get her bearings, she just walked. She walked on and on with the confidence of someone who knew where they were going. After following her for a few minutes, he understood.

He knew the second she was on her own property because she suddenly developed an air of dislike and disgust. Though he watched her from high up in the trees and she kept her hood up, he could have sworn that he saw her turn her nose up as if the very air itself smelled foul when she crossed that imaginary line.

Once she arrived at the riverbed, she stopped, something clearly in her sights. A laundry basket. She picked up her skirts and huffed quickly to it, kneeling down to inspect the contents of what appeared to be ordinary laundry. She took one of the white shirts from within, sniffed it, and nearly wretched. She threw the thing back into the basket as she turned her head away violently, seeking out the cool fresh air to fill her nose again. From the trees, he could tell disgust went to anger as she picked up the basket and began trudging up through the forest again, her target becoming clearer with every step.

She lived in a small house. It was a mill. There was a tower with a windmill on top, and that was about it's only defining feature except for a man, lounged on a cart, obviously asleep-or perhaps just passed out.

Her father, he presumed. The woman wasn't exactly a spring chicken herself, but he was still too old to be her husband. And the way she looked at him didn't suggest that relationship. No one knew the look of a disgusted and bitter wife better than he…and that wasn't it. Besides, they had the same forehead and nose.

She was a ball of fury. Upset and angry and yet obviously smart as she didn't seem to expect much from him. She chastised him for not making the flour delivery, but she didn't order him to get up and do it himself or even push him around. She simply stalked about the property, loaded up a small cart herself, and set off. He followed for what proved to be a very informative afternoon. She had only a few deliveries to make, with such a small cart she could hardly make more, but her interactions told him far more than a conversation with the girl ever would have.

She knew her place. But that didn't mean she was happy about it or willing to be owned by it. Though she kept her head down as she walked she wasn't afraid to confront those who pushed her. When a man reached out and pinched her in jest, she wasted no time turning around and slapping the devil. "Try that again, and you'll find your fingers pulled from your body one by one, do you understand me?!" she threatened, brandishing a knife she had in her bodice. Needless to say, the stranger did understand, and she moved on.

She was educated or at least educated enough for a miller's daughter. She knew how to count money and do sums in her head, as evidenced by the one and only individual who attempted to pay her less before she pointed it out, and he simply laughed away the mistake he'd made. Neither Cora nor he believed it was a mistake, he could tell simply from the look on her face. But she didn't make threats, simply enjoyed being able to call him out on his mistake and count the money he owed her out for him.

She was ruthless and unforgiving, cunning, and clever. When she finally arrived at the bakery and found herself face to face with the man who had come after her in the tavern, Ivan, she didn't unload her flour. Instead, she named her price, and he watched as the sour-faced man blanched. "That's twice the cost! And it's late!"

"You ended my shift at the tavern early! You scared away all my customers and deprived me of my tips. You'll make up what I deserve."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Fine. The next closest mill is over an hour from here, get your flour for the King's ball there."

"You can't do that!" he screamed as she went to pick up her cart once more.

"I just did. Pay, or have nothing to send to the castle tonight. I do hear those royals love their desserts; I hope they're not too cross with you when you can't deliver," she commented over her shoulder as she moved on. Clever. A woman who knew the art of deal-making and how to hold all the cards in her hand, as his father would have said. He watched as the man glared at the back of her head as she moved on, then looked at his bakery, then back to her…

"Wait!" he called. "Wait, wait, wait! Fine…it's thievery, but take your money."

She did, of course, and smiled as she counted it out and put it somewhere safe. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Ivan," she commented as she left the bags of flour with him.

"Wish I could say the same," he called after her as she moved on. She kept her eyes down and moved on.

She was interesting. A very interesting creature. And the magic that poured off of her was exquisite in its raw form. If only she could learn how to harness it. If only…

To his surprise, her next delivery was to the castle itself. It was questionable, knowing that the baker had been planning on creating the desserts for tonight, but he assumed the flour here must be for other things they were making for the dinner. Whatever the reason, it wasn't his concern; it wasn't why he was here. And as she wandered inside the castle, he summoned a cloak with a hood to pull over his shoulders and hide his face then walked inside after her. She stopped in the ballroom, a beautiful open-air space humming with activity. He watched from a safe distance, knowing in the commotion that no one would notice an extra individual, everyone was too focused on their tasks, and that included Cora. She stopped her cart just by the stairs and began to put the order together. Three bags of flour. He watched as she managed two of the heavy sacks with one arm as if they were weightless. Her magic perhaps? Helping her without her knowledge. It would not have been the first time he'd heard or even seen someone use magic that they were unaware they had without their knowledge. And he was certain that she did not know she had it because-

A shriek suddenly filled the room, breaking him from his distraction and forcing him to search the room for Cora.

"You stupid, foolish girl!" he heard her shout, telling him that she was certainly there; he just couldn't see her. And a moment later, he understood why.

"What happened here?" the King of this land demanded.

"Oh, the peasant fell! As they do," a girl remarked, forcing him to search the floor around her.

There she was, on her hands and knees before them, surrounded by a starburst of white flour.

"Are you alright?" the King inquired.

"I'm fine!" Cora shouted, flinging her arms out with so much frustration he wouldn't have been surprised if the flour gathered itself back up into the bag on its own. He could taste her magic once more. Clearly, she was not "fine".

"Not you! Eva," the King scolded. The was a flicker of confusion on Cora's face before she narrowed her gaze at him. Even he had to admit he was only watching Cora and he'd believed the King was addressing her. Selfish, unseeing royals. Why would he need to concern himself with the girl by his side? It was Cora who was on the floor covered in flour. "Are you alright, Eva?"

"Well, she ruined my slippers," the girl complained, putting forth a slippered foot, he could only imagine to show them how exactly, Cora had managed to ruin her slippers when the gown the child was wearing would have obviously required her to stick out her foot in order for them to have been damaged.

"I don't think the girl meant any harm," one of the gentlemen, a Prince, he believed, one of the King's sons, suggested.

There, at least one of them had some sense of logic, even if his words did suggest he was spineless. He could see the flaw in what the girl suggested had happened, but still went along with it instead of correcting the lie that had been told. This was only one of the many reasons he hated politics.

"You shall receive no money for the flour, and you will apologize to Eva," the King insisted, glancing at Cora.

He knew how she felt about that without looking at her only because he felt a surge of power rip through the air around him. She was emotional. That was the driving force behind her magic. If only she could channel it…

"Apologize? The wench tripped me!" she argued. Words instead of magic. Oh, she had so much to learn!

"Curb your tongue. This is Princess Eva from the Northern Kingdom, our honored guest. She's a very important woman." The King's introduction was useless. He could see that Cora didn't care to be "curbed" if the woman was a Princess or a Pauper. She was angry. And why shouldn't she be?

"She's a girl!"

"And who are you, miller's daughter? What's your name?"

It was a potentially deadly question. Names were important not only to him, but in the world as well. With a name, the King could find her father, fine him, strip him of his land, tax him, throw him out, and if she refused to do as he said she could be found, tried for treason, and hanged for her insolence. She had power, such power, and yet he hoped that her spirit was measured equal with her brain. He needed her alive!

He watched as the woman squared her shoulders and raised her head. "Cora," she answered honestly.

Oh, she had so much to learn before she could become a princess. Magic as well as politics.

"Then kneel, Cora," the King ordered.

"Do it!" he heard himself mutter through gritted teeth as he watched her mind jump back and forth between following the order and telling him off. She hated this. He'd only known of her for a few hours, but he'd seen enough in her dealings with the rest of the town that if people treated her the way the King just had she would have been the one to teach them a lesson. But he was the King. And even he knew that if she did that, it would probably be the last thing she ever did. And fortunately, she seemed to understand that too as she knelt down before the crowd of royals.

"Now apologize," the King urged, looking down at her as if she was a child. "Apologize, or this will be the last bit of flour we'll take from you. There are other millers out there."

It took every ounce of control he had in his body not to come forward and save the girl right then and there. He understood her, he felt for her, he knew that they both knew what the King would never understand and that was simply that it was their kind who did more living and understood the world far better than he ever would. She was no child. Next to the King, he was the one who was the child. But the girl was important to his future, a key puzzle piece in finding his son. As much as he wanted so badly to step forward, take that woman by the hand and use their combined powers to teach the entire Kingdom a lesson they wouldn't soon forget, he knew that he had to remain where he was. If she answered something wrong, she wouldn't be executed now. He could save her later.

"I beg your pardon, Princess Eva," she finally spat out in a stiff voice.

Something in his stomach that was clenched let go at her words. Good. It had all but killed her, but it was good. She'd given the right response.

"Stay down until we have passed," the King ordered as the girl, the one with the hair so high he was shocked her eyes weren't pinched at the corners, smiled with pride. "You are where you belong."

Except she wasn't. She was smart, so of course, she stayed right where she was, kneeling on that floor as the royal party turned and left her in her pile of flour. She exuded magic. It poured out of her with a ferocity he'd only ever recognized in his own curse. She was powerful. And despite her station, she was strong, life hadn't quite beaten her down yet, that much was evident as he watched her eyes turn to flame while she watched the party go. She was determined, which was good because he was going to need that-she was going to need that if she was to rise above her station to become a Queen as the prophecy suggested. And that anger, that pain that she felt right now…he could work with that. He didn't quite know how yet, but he knew he could work with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially was not going to have Rumple witness this scene, but instead, just watch her go into the castle and come out angry. Then I decided if he'd watched her up until that moment there was no reason he would stop. And besides, I thought witnessing this chapter would help him feel a little more connected to her. I thought it would help him to see himself in her which would make him more sympathetic and her more attractive.
> 
> Big thank yous to RolfB for her continued comments. One thing I hated about writing this was that I felt like the introduction to Cora went on and on and on and never stopped! If you are feeling that way I apologize but offer you this consolation prize, next chapter is certainly one of the top ten important chapters in this fiction. Lots of connections get made for the future and I'm hoping you'll like how they get made! Peace and Happy Reading!


	19. The Key to the Future

As soon as the royal company passed, he watched as people swarmed Cora to help with the mess. But she refused help for herself. Instead she took a spare bag of flour, her last, off the cart and gave it to the guards, then grabbed her cart and left. However, there was something different about her gait and stride as she flew through the streets. Something was going on. There was a plan in her head, something the woman was thinking about and executing right before his eyes. It was obviously sparked by what the King had said; it had provided the determination she possessed now and oh how he wanted to get inside her mind to see what she was thinking for himself! But that would require a very specific potion and found himself unwilling to leave to make the potion in his castle to do it, lest he lose her. He was helpless to watch and be surprised, to simply stick by as she abandoned her cart in an alley and disappeared inside a shop.

The shop was for women's clothes and he couldn't follow her inside, not as he was at least. It wasn't like a tavern, a man would attract attention in a place like that. But a peddler, a seller of fabric or even thread…perhaps if he summoned some recently spun thread from the castle and disguised himself in his old form he could-

Before he could plot, the door opened. Cora emerged with a large bag slung over her shoulder. Her head twitched as if someone were tickling her, and he watched as she brought the bag over her shoulder down and pulled the drawstring open. There was a swath of black tool sticking out. Or at least there was until she stuffed it right back in and pulled the drawstring shut. She looked both ways before she put the bag on the cart and moved on down the road quickly with the bulging bag.

A dress. She'd taken a dress? Well, obviously she hadn't paid for it if the shop girl who suddenly came bursting out of the shop and looking up and down the road told him anything. She was looking for a thief. But Cora…Cora was forgettable to them, in her cloak, and with her head bowed down as she pushed her cart, she blended in easily and got away before the girl could call for a soldier. She escaped with a dress?

"Now, what do you intend to do with that?"

He followed her back to the mill, how could he not. Her story just kept getting more and more interesting by the second. Her father was right where she'd left him, still asleep, probably drunk, outside and she moved inside. He couldn't follow. He heard only two human heartbeats on the entire property, if he went in there, she'd see him. He could transfigure himself, become a bird perhaps and watch her from the window, but the stench from the mill was foul, and even birds seemed to know to stay away. She'd been so determined, he didn't want to make any moves that might give her reason to be uncomfortable or suspicious, anything that might break her plan now. So, like the dress shop, he simply lounged in the tree as he decided to wait and be surprised.

It was nearly nightfall when she emerged, and when she did, he hardly recognized her. She was stunning in a red dress with black tulle that made it stick out at the sides. A ball gown. She'd stolen a ballgown? Black gloves covered her hands up to her elbows so that her white skin stood out in brilliant contrast. Her hair wasn't anything like the barely tamed mess it had been earlier. It was up now, brushed and knotted and…she cast a glance at her sleeping father before quickly covering herself with her old ratty cloak. He was suddenly sad that she'd covered herself up. She was quite the beauty like that.

But she was moving on, and that meant so was he. She didn't bid her father good-bye, leaving him with the question of what she intended to do with that beauty, merely made sure he was asleep again and ran off down the road, hugging her cloak to her so it didn't flap open in the breeze she'd crafted. To his shock and dismay, she returned to the castle, where the King's Ball was in full swing and Cora…she was a mastermind.

It was dark out when she finally arrived, and just as she got to the gates, she shed that cloak of hers and chucked it into the bushes. She checked her gloves and straightened her hair as she walked to the entrance with utter confidence. Dressed as she was, looking as she did, no one questioned her, and she strolled right into the castle as if she belonged there. Now…this was something he had to see!

It was a masquerade. And as Cora made her way into the ballroom he used his magic to change his clothes and give himself a mask to cover his face. He was nearly invisible to them as he walked on the upper balcony and watched and waited for her entrance, smirking when he finally saw her come in. She was a chameleon. He'd watched her earlier as she stole into the crowd after stealing that dress and thought it was a shame, how easy it was for them to forget her face, how common she must have been. She had none of that now. She walked into the room with confidence, hips rocking slightly side to side so her gown swayed with motion, head held high acting every bit the Princess she was destined to one day become. She was forgettable now because she did such a good job of blending in with them. Only it wasn't that she was forgettable, she was just…a chameleon, a creature highly skilled at blending in with her surroundings. The villagers didn't see the royal inside of her, only a lowly miller's daughter. And now, royals didn't see that lowly miller's daughter, they saw only one of them. It was remarkable. He'd never met a woman with her talent.

He watched as she pilfered a mask and some flowers and went to the side of the dance floor to watch the dancers. Perfect. She was utterly perfect. And the rest of them…the rest of them were…

For the first time, he allowed his eyes to wander off Cora and into the crowd, to observe their reactions or non-reactions to her. Beautiful ball gowns that twirled when the girls spun. Wonderful music. And oh, there she was, that woman who had tripped poor Cora today. He recognized her despite the fact that in that moment he'd been so focused on Cora he'd hardly given her a passing glance. Eva was her name, he remembered that much, she was…she was…

Well now, this was interesting.

Eva…now that he was looking at her, truly looking at her, he had a flash, the halls of the banquet hall faded around him into a vision.

_He saw a brightly lit bedroom where that woman lay huddled on the sheets, her hair laid out over the pillow while her skin glistened with drying sweat that had once dripped off of her. She was smiling, holding something in a blanket as she rocked it and gazed down into the folds._

_A baby._

_"There must be three feet of snow out there, your Highness!" cried a servant at the window. "And oddity this time of the year, to be sure, but not this year it seems. Still, now that the little Princess has come, it's stopped. There is nothing but beautiful pristine white, but it all pales in comparison to her. It's as though the gods knew that there was no competition for a more glorious sight."_

_"Then we must name her after it! Mustn't we, my little Princess, my little Snow White," Eva cooed._

It was a name!

Snow White, in his prophecy, in the vision…it hadn't been a description it had been a name!

And that was her mother and she…

As if by magic, or perhaps it was just that, he felt a pull from the woman, from Eva. It was as though an invisible string were tied from her belly to…he followed it through the crowd, looking the Kings and Queens, the Princes and Princesses, over as he did. The string stopped with a man. It was Prince George. He was next in line, from a Kingdom not too distant from this one. But the connection between them, George and Eva, the string went from her womb to his…head?

Were they married?

No.

For Eva was with one man and George with another woman, and when they were around one another, they let out a feeling of supreme happiness that came from couples in love. That eliminated the possibility of lovers as well. But then…what did it mean?

Prince Charming.

The thought came to him as he watched the connection between the pair and realized, perhaps the string had nothing to do with Eva and George and everything to do with their children. Snow White and Prince Charming would bear the Savior. Prince Charming, he could be the son of Prince George, who would become King George, but then…why was that thread connected to his head? Shouldn't be connected to…

No.

As he looked the woman George escorted over, he saw no connection, no thread linking her womb to Eva's. In fact, he could sense a blackness there, a deep blackness, anyone who had studied the craft seriously would be able to sense it, a curse. She was barren.

George and his Queen would bear no children. But then how…

The False Prince.

His original vision had informed him that a twin would become a false prince. What if…what if they weren't two separate people he was looking for. What if they were the same?

Without a child George would need a child! What if the child became Prince Charming?! And Prince Charming and Snow White those were the two the string united.

The prophecy told him they were destined to have a child.

_"Swan."_

Swan? Oh, the word came to him just as Snow White's and Regina's and Cora's...it was the child's name. The child's name was Swan! It was an odd name, but he had to begin thinking outside the box. If Snow White could be a name, then why not Swan?!

A vision overshadowed the scene before him once more.

_A woman, one he'd seen before in his original vision, Cora's daughter, Regina Mills._

_"I shall destroy Snow White's happiness if it is the last thing I do!"_

_The scene faded and morphed, the blonde-haired woman he'd seen standing with Hook now stood before Regina. And though he couldn't place the strange clothes the women were wearing or the odd object that was in the blonde's hand as they stood by an apple tree, he knew she was the Swan. The Savior. And between the woman…nothing but contempt._

Oh, he hadn't been sick in years but he suddenly had the urge to vomit.

He had been dealing with the wrong people all his life! This party, this place…everything was becoming more and more clear with every moment that he observed these royals. The Seer's voice was murmuring excitedly in his ear with the new faces he looked upon and…

Answers! At last, some answers! It was so much, too much information all at once! And to be carrying it around all these years with so many questions and suddenly to have the answers…it was remarkable, unbelievable! And all because of the brown-haired beauty across the room who had led him to this place and opened his eyes.

There was Cora, a strong potent magic flared within her. It was nearly as willful as she was, strolling through the party, pretending to be royalty, hoping to catch a husband that might improve her station perhaps.

Oh, suddenly, he recognized her magic. It was magic that he had once sensed in a poor farm girl years ago. He'd been drawn to her just as he'd been drawn to a boy working on a farm with his father. He hadn't understood the connection to the girl then, he still didn't understand th connection to the boy on the farm, but suddenly he knew about the girl. Cora was her daughter. And Cora's child would be the one to cast the curse that he needed to get back to Bae. He grinned like he hadn't in decades as hope swelled in him. If Regina was half as powerful as Cora was then he was in luck!

This was amazing! Cora was amazing! Suddenly, for the first time since he became the Dark One and lost Bae, he felt like fate had truly shifted in his own favor. She was a lucky charm. She was stunning. And he couldn't be sure, but he was almost certain this was what love felt like. Cora was the key. He needed to remain close to her, if only to be close to the child, now he only needed to figure out what might set it in motion.

Suddenly, he felt it, the pulse of her magic. It sobered him, pulled him out of the future and back into the present, but when he looked down at the last place he'd seen her, she was gone. Close by, obviously, but also…angry. Her magic betrayed her, it called to him, but where was she?!

"My loyal subjects!" his gaze automatically went to the voice of the King crying out over the crowd. All laughter and music ceased with his voice, they watched with eagerness, but he felt his blood run cold. For there, beside him on the dance floor, was Cora. And he could tell just by the way he looked at her that she'd been discovered. "We have a very special personage with us. This woman tells me that she can spin straw into gold."

Straw into gold?

The crowd laughed. At her. She stood upon the steps with the King now, looking out over them and though her back remained straight, and she never dropped her aura of confidence, he could tell from the way she rubbed her hands together that she was nervous. The King may as well have unmasked her. "And she's going to demonstrate it for us!"

His heart was beating fast, he had the feeling that hers was probably going faster. There was no doubt in his mind that if properly channeled she could turn straw into gold, she possessed the power for it, that much was clear to him. But she was oblivious to her…gifts.

Gifts that he truly believed could help her to do what she claimed but not if she didn't understand it. Gifts that would be worthless if the girl was caught in her lies and killed! She was shaking. He could see it from a distance but he wasn't sure the others would.

"Fetch a spinning wheel!" the King demanded. He stepped up to the rail to watch, prepared, if necessary, to his magic into the wheel if she continued to see this lie through to the end. If that was what it would take to save her then-

"It takes…time," she suddenly stuttered out "…to gather my thoughts."

"Oh!" the King mused. "I tell you what, my dear. Spend the night here, locked in a tower full of straw. Spin it into gold tomorrow, and you can marry the Prince…"

Across the room, heads turned to the masked man in white. He recognized him as well, Henry, the one for whom that ball had been thrown, for the purposes of finding a wife. He smiled at her now from the back of the crowd, not having the sense to join his father or the spine to speak out against the plan he was twisting before his eyes.

" Fail…" the King continued as they looked back at Cora, "…and you die."

Anger. Anger was the key to her magic. He knew because the moment the King said his words, he felt the magic around her doused quickly by fear. She was in trouble, and despite the smile, she put on and her words of "very well, take me to your tower", she knew she was in trouble too. But Rumpelstiltskin only smiled. Soon she would be smiling too. She didn't know it yet, but straw into gold was something of a specialty of his.

It was a perfect opening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, if I were to make a list of the top ten important chapters in this fiction, this chapter would definitely be included. This chapter doesn't just give him a glimpse into Cora and who she is or will be but it also gives hints about her daughter, about Snow, about David and James, and then of course Emma! Remember, the original prophecy he received was meant to give him hints but throughout the fiction more and more of those hints get fleshed out and slowly become clear. So...have you figured out who the boy he has an urge to follow is?
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm glad we're liking the Cora section so far. I hope that you've seen how I've kind of built in an easy attraction to her. Not only was it her strength that was attractive, but now he can see her power and magic and now he's thinking that because of her he has all this information so he's sort of indebted to her. I think it makes it easy for him to fall for her in that tower and it makes it less...let's say sudden. Now we see that he's been following her around so it's not so much "hey I just met you and this is crazy but here's a hickey so call me maybe" and more "I've been watching you all day so I feel like I know you." At least I hope that comes across! Peace and Happy Reading!


	20. A Very Important Deal

It was a good thing he was a very patient man. Nearly mid-night and he felt as though all he'd done today had been watching the miller's daughter. He watched as she'd made her promises to the ball filled with guests and as the King issued his challenge. He watched as the guards took her away, peacefully, as if they too were playing along with her ruse. He left the party and found the best spot in the forest to overlook the towers then watched as a light suddenly sparked to life in one of the highest ones, all the while, the party in the ballroom continued on as if nothing had happened. Royals, he'd come to discover, were like sharks. They could smell blood in the water. And on this night, he very much doubted that they were going to ever sleep, not while such an interesting challenge was issued and sunrise was only hours away.

Still, his patience had paid off for him. True, he was often summoned by those he was unprepared for, and even bothered sometimes up in his castle by unexpected visitors, but in truth, he liked to be prepared for the deals he made. And the watching of Cora today had told him more or less all he needed to know about her, all he needed to know about how to make a deal with her that would put that child she was destined to bear right in his sights.

Though she'd been taken up to the tower and locked in, judging by the shadows in the window, fairly early on in the evening, he didn't go up immediately to meet her because she was stubborn. It was an admirable quality in a woman in many ways, but he was certain that if he appeared to her too early, she would refuse him and the help he'd offer. And then, out of pride, she would never accept it again. He was sure from the shaking that she'd been doing earlier that she was scared, but in order for this to work quickly and smoothly, he didn't need her scared; he needed her desperate. He needed her to know, for a fact, without a doubt, that she couldn't do this without help. He needed her to be in that place.

At first, watching her shadow stretch and shrink several times against the lit window, he was certain she was trying. Trying required determination. It wasn't the right time. A little while later when he watched her shadow rise and then pass back and forth several times. She was pacing, he smiled. Pacing meant she was growing frustrated and thinking through her options, of which she'd soon discover there were none. Pacing was panicking. The time was getting closer, but it still wasn't right. Finally, just after the town clock struck mid-night, he saw it. Desperation. The window to her tower opened and in the distance he watched as a pale form, Cora, poked her head out of it and looked down. She stared into the waters below as if she was contemplating whether or not she'd survive if she jumped and what kind of life she might have if she ran away, which she would undoubtedly have to do.

That was his cue.

She was still leaning out the window when he moved himself into her tower. It was stuffed, packed to a ridiculous extent with long dried pieces of straw and a spinning wheel in the middle. He supposed it was done to make it look good on his part, to make it look as though he was giving her every chance to make her ridiculous claim possible. This way, when it failed in the morning, there would be no fault placed at the King's feet. Oh, she was smart, she might make it another day if she claimed the tower environment wasn't what she needed, maybe a few more weeks if she suggested she needed a full moon or fresher straw, but there was no chance she was going to pull this off long enough to lead a full life. And certainly she was never going to marry the Prince in that case! Not without his help, at least.

He let out a loud, high pitched giggle at the thought and she immediately spun around to face him. It took more energy than he thought it would to keep the mask he'd developed over the years in place and not let her beauty betray him.

"That's never going to work!" he pointed out quickly. "I mean, you'll escape, but you'll be dead. Kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

"Who are you?" she questioned, looking him over with confusion instead of the usual emotions of disgust, fear, and dread he'd come to expect.

"Who are you?" he questioned back, as if he didn't know. The last thing he wanted her to know was that she'd been studied.

He watched as she took a deep breath and narrowed a gaze at him that would strike fear into the heart of any husband. "Cora!" she spat out.

Interesting. In the face of fear itself, this woman simply responded with frustration, as if she was tired of him already. It was very…interesting. But after watching her all day, he couldn't say he expected anything less.

"Not a very pretty name, is it?" he retorted. "Sounds like something breaking."

"How did you get in here?! If you got in, I can get out." She pointed out while taking steps toward him. Her posture was threatening. Poor girl obviously had no idea who she was dealing with.

"If I understand your situation, this is your way out," he gestured to the piece of straw in his hand, then turned away to examine the wheel they'd provided for her. Saxony Wheel…at least essentially. A straw spinning wheel wasn't something he usually worked on, but it was close enough to the Saxony Wheel in could figure out how to work it with only a glance. The wheel the King had provided was different from the Saxony Wheel in that it had a different…well, he would have called it the Mother-of-All, but didn't actually know if the straw spinners used the same terminology. Instead of a spool, or flyers, or bobbins, or orifice hooks, this simply had a cup attached to it where the straw could be fed through. Like spinning wool, it was a matter of just letting the machine do its work. Turning the machine's work into gold was what he was there for.

He nearly laughed. One day he'd spin for Kings and Queens, his aunts had said. He doubted this was what came to their minds when they'd said that.

"And what a marvelous coincidence, that spinning straw into gold just so happens to be something that I like to do." He sat down at the wheel, and his foot found the treadle. He gave it only one timid push to start the wheel before instinct kicked in, and his fingers found the movements they knew too well. "Yeah, it's…it's almost like…like…like…like fate."

"No one can spin straw into anything, and no one can make-"

He let out a laugh, and she shut her mouth the moment the thread in his hands became a shiny, familiar thread of gold!

What an interesting, doubtful, ignorant girl she could be.

"Oh, well, well. Would you look at that?"

Cora stared at the thread in his hands and then finally grabbed it herself to examine. He watched as she rubbed it hard between her fingers as if searching for paint or some other trick to what she'd just seen. Finding none, she looked back up at him.

"You want to help me?"

"No," he answered honestly. "I want you to help me. And you will, because the future…is my gift. Well, in a manner of speaking." It was the first time since he'd inherited the ability that he actually thought of it that way, but he wasn't willing to relinquish this lead he had on his son now! And better yet, he had the feeling Cora was not willing to relinquish this hope she had that her life might not just be spared but improved. A fine bed over a cot of hay would be appealing to any man or woman…didn't he know.

"What could you possibly get from me?" Cora demanded with a roll of her eyes as if she thought the entire thing was ridiculous. If only she knew just how long he'd waited for this moment.

"Funny you should ask. Can you read?"

With a snap of his fingers, he crafted a contract, one that Cora was eager to take in her hands and begin skimming. The jolt she gave when she got to the small print was small, but still present. But the look she gave him as she held that contract in her hands…it was suspicious.

"My firstborn child?"

He nodded, moving around the little stool to stand beside her. "She is quite important."

"She?"

"Yes, I see the future. Weren't you listening?"

Cora's eyes drifted away from him, and she let out a small sigh, almost one of relief. He supposed it could be emotional for a woman to hear news of her first child and also painful for someone to suggest they would take it away, but fortunately for her, that wasn't what the contract stated and nor would he do such a thing. He wasn't an idiot. Now that he had something of a timeframe for his curse, there was too much to do in order to get himself together before going off and finding Baelfire. He didn't have time to raise a child, he'd leave that to her mother. All he wanted was the ability to be in her life and teach her magic, that wonderful, glorious power that quivered just beneath her mother's skin. But only if she accepted this deal!

"Anyway, I only get my payment if you live past tomorrow."

"You can turn all this straw into gold by morning?" Cora questioned.

He nodded. "And you can parade in front of the royals and demand the hand of the dimly lit Prince!" he pronounced. "And have them kneel before you. That's what you want, eh? You want them to kneel-"

"No."

"-I… No? What?" he questioned, turning back to her.

No? No to what? No to his offer? Or no to his deal? It was a very important question! And he was more than confused than ever because he couldn't understand the answer of "no" to either of those? No to one and she died, no to the other, and she'd never get the respect she deserved and had to undoubtedly crave after the life that she'd led. No? How could she turn him down?

"Teach me," she finally requested gently but with insistence. "Don't just do it. Teach me. Make it part of our deal."

Well…wasn't this an interesting twist of fate. It was his job as the Dark One to be the tempter, to be cunning and clever to suggest the best deal that would give him what he wanted while letting her feel like she had just won. There were no negotiations involved and yet…

The power within her burned bright, like a beacon in the distance that issued warnings, it called to him now, tempting, desirable, and the skin on her shoulders didn't exactly hurt either. So, this was what it felt like to be tempted, to feel want for someone other than his son. She was a worthy opponent. And why not teach her? What difference did it make if she spun the gold or he did? So long as he taught Regina in the end. And if Cora was able to guide the girl in her own magic as well…he couldn't see a disadvantage to that.

He let out another small laugh. "You are a spicy one, aren't you? Oh, well…" he flung his arms out and graciously bowed before her. "Rumpelstiltskin!"

"What?" she questioned, taking a step back and examining him as though he was crazy.

"My name," he informed her. "Do believe you just earned it!"

With a small bit of magic, he waved his hand at the contract, and it glowed with gold and sparkle as the ink on the pages rearranged itself to agree that if he taught her to spin straw into gold, he would be permitted to teach the first child of Princess Cora. It was perfect save for one thing…a signature.

From within the depths of his coat, he pulled forth a red feathered quill and handed it to her.

"Now…let's begin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love this chapter. I know that it's something we've already seen and there are no real surprises but I still had fun writing it mostly for one paragraph...Spinner!Rumple returns! It doesn't happen often throughout this fiction, but there are times that spinning wheels come into the picture and when it happens I couldn't help but have him fangirl a bit and show the reader, remind the reader, really, that we're dealing with one of his favorite things in the world. He's an expert on magic, and he's a brilliant man, but when he looks at a spinning wheel immediately he begins to assess what he has in front of him and remind us that spinning was and still remains his first love. Being able to show that when I can doesn't just make me smile, sometimes it gives me chills too!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on this chapter! Much obliged! I knew that we're not done with this episode yet and with this break it just seems like it continues to go on and on and on, but I promise, from here it starts to pick up and I'm even going to through some other interesting stuff at you. Compared to what you read in the Beginning Section, from here everything starts to get complex! Peace and Happy Reading!


	21. A Bloodlust Seduction

Cora signed the contract, and they did indeed get right to work. They didn't have much choice. It was after midnight, and he felt very confident that the moment the sun rose, the King would be banging on the door demanding his gold or Cora's head. He'd anticipated having enough time to allow himself to spin a room full of straw into gold, but now he had no choice but to teach Cora to do it herself.

There was a lot of straw in the room, it covered the walls, but he didn't panic, for he knew that the King was no fool. If Cora could prove that she could do as she said, then she didn't need to transform all of it. If she could just transform one piece of it, it would be enough. The King would be foolish to toss away the life of someone who could spin money for him just because she didn't spin an entire roomful. Cora held more power in this than she thought, but he wouldn't tell her that, not yet. After watching her all day, he knew that the last thing he needed at a moment like this was for her to be at ease.

So they began with the basics. She was, up until this day, only a miller's daughter. She'd spent her life working around a mill not a spinning wheel and so they began much the same way that his aunts had taught him to spin, just introducing her to the machine. He didn't go into details, of course. He didn't name parts or explain what their part was in making ropes of straw, there was no need, in his mind, for her to know what made up a Mother-of-All or Flyer Assembly because if she failed this task then she'd be dead, and if she succeeded, well she'd become a Princess, not a spinner. If the King demanded more golden straw from her in the future, they could get to all that later. For now, she just needed to know that the peddle worked the wheel, which braided the straw that was fed into the little cup. It took her all of a half hour to learn. It was the next part that wasn't easy.

"You simply must push your magic into the machine, your desire to make straw into gold, combined with what's already in you, is enough to make the spell work.

"How do I know what's inside of me! I've never used magic before!" she countered. He only smiled, dropping all pretense of an act as he recalled all he'd seen earlier in the day.

"There is something inside of you," he explained, moving around her. "Something that demands it's freedom and takes it when you are not looking. I've already seen it once today."

"You were watching me," she commented plainly. No accusation was in her voice, no hint of anger or fear that so many others would have. It was just a casual observation to her. What a good thing to keep in mind.

"Let's call it 'getting to know you'."

Cora smirked and sat forward on her stool a bit more. "And what, pray tell, did you learn?"

It was a challenge, disguised as an inquiry. She was looking for ruthlessness, for honesty. Had he seen her take the dress? Chastise her father? Talk back at the bar? Yes, yes, he'd seen all of that. But he'd seen more than that too. And if anyone knew how to play intimidation, it was him.

He leaned forward over the wheel, so they were nearly face to face. "I learned that there is more to you than meets the eye," he muttered. "There is magic inside of you. Powerful, strong magic lashing against your very skin for freedom. I learned that you have all the power you need to do this…you just need to know how to use it."

She closed her eyes as he'd whispered to her, she sat back and confronted the wheel before letting out a shiver that had him smiling.

"You can feel it now, can't you?" he questioned, standing up tall and moving around her once more. "The way it crawls just below the surface, tickling that pristine flesh, urging you to use it the way it was meant to be used…"

"They say my mother was a witch," she commented suddenly, opening her eyes and looking over the wheel in front of her. "But my father said witches were evil and tried to beat it out of her."

He let out a sharp giggle that drew her eyes right back to him and out of whatever past she'd been imagining. "Well, you can't beat the magic out of those who have it, dearie! And no one is one thing or the other outright. You have to choose how you use your magic. So…how do you choose to use it, miller's daughter?"

He'd addressed her to rile her up to get a response. And he got it. A small fire caught in her eyes as she stared him down. "I'd be content to save my skin and get far away from that wretch man people call my father."

Perfect.

"Then tell me…when did you first feel the magic inside of you?"

She knew. Now that she had the identity of what she'd been feeling all her life, he could tell that she could recognize what it had been and all the times she'd felt it. That was the reason she didn't pull her gaze off of him when he'd asked the question or take long to answer. She knew.

"When I watched my father beat my mother to death," she commented as casually as if they were discussing the weather. "I was only six, he thought I was asleep."

"And you wanted to save her," he assumed.

"At first…" she practically growled. There it was. It was the emotion of anger. That was the emotion that made the spark in her come alive, and as her stare bored into him, he had a feeling she could feel it as well. "But when I sensed that I had magic too, I wanted to hide lest he come after me too."

"Use that!" he encouraged, stepping forward and placing his hands on her shoulders so that she sat back and looked at the wheel before her. "Draw from it. See before you the task at hand, and then drag that feeling to the surface, push it into your work, and let yourself have what you need."

She took a breath as he stepped away from her, then put some straw in the cup, and moved her foot. She stopped after a few seconds to examine her work. Nothing, from here, even with his back to the fireplace, he could see it was nothing.

"Again," he urged. "Focus."

Again she let out a frustrated breath and got back to the spinning. Frustration was fine. Frustration could lead to anger, which was exactly why time and time again when she stopped to look at what she'd done, to see if she'd accomplished her goal, he kept egging her on. "Again…" he said. "Again…again…again…again…again…"

"Stop repeating yourself and-"

Behind him, before her voice could rise entirely, he felt heat swell that distracted them both. The fireplace. The dying fire inside of it had flared to engulf practically the entire thing and was now blazing and strong again. Impressive…though…

"Not quite what I was expecting," he commented.

"You didn't do that?" she questioned with shock.

"No," he answered. "I believe that was you." Frustration and anger were going to be key for her, but a little confidence boost obviously hadn't hurt either. Before he could utter the words "try again" she'd already turned back to the wheel and was moving her foot over the treadle with determination.

He, on the other hand, was trying desperately not to show his own emotions, not to show how excited he was that it was working, that he was capable of teaching those he met the craft he'd dedicated his life to studying all for his son. He was trying not to watch her with admiration in his own eyes lest her gift of perception catch him. And he was trying most of all to ignore the feeling that wanted him to sit down, take her in his arms and confess just how impressed he was with what she could do. That would be a mistake, he acknowledged. But at the same time, every time the top of her white foot came into view working the treadle, he had to admit that perhaps admiration of her had gone too far.

He was staring at her again. Her shoulders were delicate and perfect for a miller's daughter, not a single flaw on her skin. Perhaps it was the magic within her, he theorized, perhaps she'd been using it all these years to keep herself beautiful since she'd never known how to manifest it before. The more he stared at her, the fire he felt in his own soul kindled in a way it hadn't before. Ever.

"Ugh!" she cried hours later, bringing his eyes back to her and not her shoulders. He had to, that that cry the magical flare he'd been feeling dissipate inside of her finally died. "It's not happening."

No. It wasn't. He had to acknowledge that. And there were many reasons for that. The tower was cold, the situation was stressful, and she was slow. Obviously, she wasn't as gifted with the wheel as he was at such a young age, or even as gifted as Baelfire and Milah had been, but even Milah had some working knowledge of spinning when he'd taught her. Still, she was getting the wheel to work, the problem wasn't in getting the straw to twine together, her problem was that she wasn't using her magic right. She felt it inside of her, but she wasn't pushing it out of herself, she was savoring it, holding on to it, when what she needed to do was let it go entirely. The more she tried the less she succeeded. The less she succeeded, the more frustrated she became. The more frustrated she became, the more she tried and on and on the cycle repeated itself. And besides that, they were running into another problem.

She was exhausting herself. Using magic, even for the most experienced of witches and wizards, could take a toll. Using it this much all at once was draining her, and besides that, it was past three in the morning. There were only a couple of hours left until sunrise, she'd been up nearly all night, and that made her tired, on top of using the magic. He'd noticed it just in the last half hour or so, the way she wobbled on her stool. She was practically falling asleep at her chair.

The power he'd seen throughout her the previous day was still there, but its glow was only that of an ember now. She'd never succeed like this. The memory of the day the magic had made itself known to her wasn't strong enough. There had to be a way to wake her up, spark her power back to life again, to give her more energy…to fuel her anger.

"You just need to stop thinking about it," he urged. He never thought about what he was doing, and it worked for him. It would work for her too as soon as she tapped into the emotion she'd had earlier in the day! But her tired eyes stared up at him now reminding him far more of a doe than a dragon. That wouldn't do. He needed the dragon he'd seen earlier. He wanted that dragon. "Magic is about emotion. Summon up that moment that made you so angry…you would've killed if you could."

There was a long pause as she stared up at him, the sleep disappeared from her eyes little by little, and he felt as though he could see her mind working. On what, he wondered.

"You do that?" she questioned. Her voice was filled with curiosity. Curiosity about him. But…for a question like that, he would have expected a woman to question him with fear, not with something like…like fascination.

"I do," he admitted quietly, with a gentle smile, suddenly feeling there was no need to impress or scare the girl. She was already looking at him with eyes like…like…like he'd never seen before. Not lusty, like so many of the barmaids he'd met, not fearfully like so many he made deals with. It was a hungry gaze. It was…it was wanted. And it stirred him up in a way he hadn't for near a hundred years.

"What's your moment?" she asked next with an interest that made him want to grin. It made him need to grin.

In truth, there were many times since he'd become the Dark One that made him so angry he wanted to kill. Ripping Milah's heart from her chest and crushing it after she'd told him she never loved him was a particularly delightful memory. But it wouldn't do, simply because while it had made him angry, the fulfillment of his anger meant it wasn't quite right. The nasty Blue Fairy telling him he'd never find his son was another terrible memory, but he had confidence that he'd deal with her in his own time. Then there was that time he'd realized the Captian, Captain Hook, as he supposed he was now, had tricked him out of his bean…another rivalry had been born that day, but it wasn't what he thought about. There were so many wonderful, beautiful memories that made him want to kill, but only one that stuck out to him because he'd never acted on the moment. There was only truly one of those moments before he became the Dark One that still made him want to murder to this day. It was the only memory that grated against him because he hadn't had the power to act on it at that moment.

"Once…a man made me kiss his boots in front of my son," he admitted in a low whisper. "Now, in my mind, I go back, and I rip out his throat…and I crunch his veins with my teeth…and that, dearie, is how magic is made." He been graphic on purpose, more vulgar than necessary at first just to see how she responded, but when he saw her smile, her interest in his story he'd wanted to continue just to please her. If her gaze was any indication now, she was pleased.

"Bloodlust…" she muttered in a deep husky voice that had him breathing rough. That was an excellent way to look at it. And at the moment, he certainly had a new respect for it. Thinking back on that day, looking at a captive audience who almost seemed happy at his wishes…bloodlust was certainly something he felt in certain parts of his body. "I like the phrase…" His fingers were twitching, itching, like they did when he needed to spin, but this time it wasn't wool he was dying to get his hands on. And if he was correctly interpreting her gaze, he wasn't the only one…

"Let me help you…" he muttered, despite the little voice in the back of his head that told him to stay far away. She was just too delectable! And he…he couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to touch a woman who wanted him to touch her. Not since he'd become the Dark One. But now, he put his hands on her shoulders, and instead of the tension he'd so clearly felt when he touched Milah, he felt the opposite.

She softened. She leaned back ever so slightly so that her skin was pressed into his palms, and suddenly he understood what if felt like to be a fish on a lure. The stool they'd given her to sit upon wasn't big, but she sat so far forward on it that if he moved his body right up next to her own, pressed her legs against her own, her back against his belly and her bottom against his groin…they fit together upon that stool, just barely, but only if they continued to sit this close together.

He arms moved then, beginning to spin again, and he moved his hands up and down her arms feeling smooth, soft skin, remarkably unmarred by the life she'd led. And despite her work, her nerves and stress she smelled…she smelled too amazing not to put his nose down over her shoulder and sniff. He was so close he could kiss that it of flesh. In fact, if pressed…he could put his mouth to all of it, and make the growing throb he felt between them content.

"They made me kneel," she muttered in a low voice as her hands continued to move and his mouth…it had been too long, and he just couldn't resist the urge to kiss her. Oh, it had been so long! "I didn't do anything wrong, but they made me apologize…to a child!"

Oh, there it was. She was reliving the events of earlier in the day, and with it, what he felt suddenly went beyond physical and into mystical. Her power, it was shivering, quivering inside of her body, seeping out through her skin and her breath. It filled the room. And he was so close it tickled in all the right places that had seemed dead until this moment.

"I realized, no matter how good I was, or how hard I worked… I was never going to be more than I am now."

Yes…but she was more…could be so, so much more.

"What do you want to do to them?" he urged, whispering the words in her ear and wondering if her neck would taste the same as her shoulder did.

"I want to make them bow," she whispered as her magic flared. "I want their kneecaps…to crack and freeze on the stones. I want their necks to break from bending."

Oh…bloodlust indeed. He couldn't have kept his hands off of her if he tried, not with her bending into him and pushing so much magic into their space that…

The thought of pushing magic had him glancing up to check on the wheel. What he saw there, he knew, would make her nearly as happy as it made him. He only prayed it wasn't enough to make her want to stop.

"Look," he muttered in her ear, letting just a few of her curls fall over his face. Her hair smelled just as good as her skin did.

Cora tensed for a moment, the softening of her muscles died as she glanced at the wheel, and he saw a smile, far different from her look of bloodlust grace her face. "I did it," she wondered. "I'm going to live."

And have a baby that would get him to Baelfire…and if the magic he'd felt in her was any indication, it was only the beginning. He should have known. It wasn't anger that motivated her. It was revenge. Her trigger emotion was the same as his own.

"You're going to do much more than that, dearie. Don't stop…until they are on their knees!" he hissed in her ear. And with that, she fell back into him as she had been, leaned into his chest, into his touch, and sighed.

"Let's keep going…." she whispered, turning back to her work.

He continued to do his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so there you have it, the scene that launched the ship of Golden Heart and also made Rumbellers everywhere say "ew". I had to back into it from a different place as the scene we were given was obviously one we came into the middle of but I hope you liked where it started, if not how it ended.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your very kind comments. We have one more chapter that deals with this part of the 2x16 episode and then we'll be moving on. We will still be in the Cora section, but it might not go one hundred percent as you expect it to be. Intrigued? Let's keep reading! Peace and Happy Reading!


	22. Proven Worth

He couldn't remember the last time that he'd touched someone who wanted to be touched. He couldn't remember the last time someone had taken it from him without wanting to pull away. He couldn't remember the last time he had wanted to touch someone and reveled in the fact that he felt it from his fingertips down to his toes. It was possible, he realized, that he might not ever have experienced such a thing. Milah had never truly wanted anything he'd had to offer for her, the women he'd met and had looked on him with favor since seeing the Dark One only had eyes for his power. The woman from the village, what was her name, Margene? Margie? Well, whoever she was, she was the only one that had ever come close, but he remembered their encounters then being far more about satisfying their own pleasures rather than one another. But Cora…

Cora was different. A different experience, a different breed of woman he'd met all together. It had been so long since he'd touched another being, another person who wanted it that he couldn't stop himself from running his hands everywhere he could think to, just to see how far she would let him go. He matched his hands with her own as she spun, guided them along arm and elbow and shoulder. He let his fingers linger on the exposed skin of her back and then finally did what he had been dying to do since he'd sat down next to her. He pressed his lips to her. He laid a gentle kiss along the curve of her neck as he traced his hands down and finally laid them at her waist, then continued making a path up along her neck and tracing up her jawline, and just below her ear.

When she stood up, it was a shock. He felt his body tense in preparation for a slap or a scold or an order to leave now that she knew what she was doing. But nothing came. She simply walked slowly over to one of the boards where the straw was laid out, retrieved a few more bundles, then walked back over to them to lay at their feet. She glanced up at him only once before sitting back down between his legs and shifting her weight so that she was even closer than she had been before she stood up. She made him ache in places he hadn't ached in a long time.

"Don't stop now, my dear," she whispered over her shoulder. "We've got a long way to go tonight."

A grin stretched across his face as she began to spin the wheel again, and he put his hands back to her waist and continued to bury his face in her neck.

She was feisty, as he'd guessed, and a quick learner. By the time the sun rose, she had not spun all the straw to gold, but she had turned enough of it that the King would be an arrogant fool to execute her. There was easily enough gold in this room to get the Kingdom out of debt and Cora out of the mill. It was impressive. It was as though her magic had been suppressed so long now that it was free, it poured out of her. And he fed off of it, registering how much more came from her than her mother and wondering how much more her own daughter would be capable of. And all the while he wondered how much more Cora would be capable of if they kept at their work.

But as the dawn began to lighten the chamber and the sky outside, he acknowledged that those were questions he would have to wait another time to get answers to. As much as it killed him to do it, by mornings light, he kissed her neck once more and rose.

"You're going?" she questioned as the wheel stopped and silence filled the tower. Oh, it wasn't by choice that he was leaving, but rather necessity. Sitting close to her made it difficult enough to leave her be and not take her back this very moment to his own castle to satisfy the need she'd awakened in him. But he'd been working on this plan to get back to his son for nearly a century, he couldn't take his eyes off that prize now just because staring at her breasts made him giddy.

"My services are no longer required," he explained turning back to her. "The deal was to teach you to spin straw into gold to spare your life. You now know how to spin straw to gold; your life will be spared. My job is done."

"But it's only just begun, don't you see?" she asked as she rose from her seat and moved toward him. "This power, this gift you've given me…you said there was more to it. Did you mean that?"

She was a tricky one. After spending the night glued to his chest he figured space would seem like a gift, but now she stood toe to toe with him again, her hands tracing up his chest until they were slung around the back of his neck and he felt it an unquestionable need to put his own hands over her waist and draw her even closer. Her eyes were sleepy, her lids were heavy, and he had the sense that if he urged her down into a pile of hay, she wouldn't fight it, but those same eyes were also serious and searching. They were waiting. Waiting for an answer to the question she'd posed. It was, he realized as she moved against him, a very easy answer.

"What is inside of you is powerful indeed," he stated honestly, feeling truly captivated for the first time in his life. "And you are capable of so much more than you've accomplished tonight."

"Then don't go," she suggested tightening her grip. "Teach me more. Teach me all you know."

He chuckled at such a request. It was made with as much seriousness as a Queen suggesting a new tax plan, not with the frivolity of so many girls he'd met over the years. She wasn't a child. She was a woman, smart and tenacious, but he couldn't teach her everything he knew. He had thousands of years worth of combined knowledge in his head, a mortal would never master it, and a mortal in her position had no need.

He pulled her closer, letting his fingers reach up again to touch the skin on her back. Toe to toe and now they were nearly nose to nose.

"You'll have no need for magic once you've wed your prince."

She let out a small laugh and rolled her eyes as if he'd only stated absurdity. "I'll have every need. I'm only a miller's daughter, remember. And since my life has been spared, I'm about to be entrusted to an entire Kingdom…a little magic might be exactly what I need…"

He wasn't sure who gave in first, only that it was a glorious question to wonder who wanted who more. Nonetheless he found that the little space there was between them suddenly vanished as Cora finally moved forward to match her mouth against his own. He had to adjust his weight for the extra push her body gave against his own, but he was quite pleased that all it really forced him to do was gather her up even closer, hold her tighter. To think he'd spent the night wondering about the last time he'd been touched; the last time he'd been kissed had been forever! But to be kissed by someone who seemed to desire him, by someone that he desired back and had every urge to claim in a way he never had was unfamiliar and thrilling, exotic in its own way. He could barely breathe, they could barely breath it seemed as all manner of rope and gold was forgotten and he let his hand drift down over her back to-

Behind them! Outside the door, there was a loud slam like a door being forced open. It forced them to break their kiss and stare at the door expectantly as footsteps suddenly sounded in the distance.

"I will still need you after this is done, dear Rumple," she muttered quickly, drawing his attention back to her. "Just not now!" With that, she kissed him again so that he could feel the steel of her power against his mouth and felt a fire erupt in his body like it never had with Milah before she pushed him away. "Stay close," she ordered.

"As you wish," he promised as the footsteps stopped at her door, and he heard the key turn in its lock.

He left the tower and reappeared in the ballroom, where he struggled to catch his breath following the dalliances of the night. He hadn't slept in decades, so how was it that standing in the ballroom behind a pillar he suddenly felt as though he'd spent the night dreaming? How was it that one girl, the daughter of a miller made his heart jump and his cock ache when he saw her. Those were emotions he'd long thought were dead to him, certainly after he'd killed Milah he'd never thought anything of those reactions. And yet, with Cora they were alive again. One night was all it had taken to stoke them into a flame once more, and for the first time in nearly a century, he found that it was not only his son by his side that he wanted…but Cora too. He wanted to keep her as close as she'd been a few seconds ago. And it wasn't for the baby that she was destined to deliver.

A murmuring from below distracted him. It pulled him out of his fantasies enough that he was able to move around the column and glance down into the ballroom. He'd been right. For most, it seemed as though the party had never stopped last night. They were still dressed in ball gowns, crowns, and the jewelry from the night before, though he did note a fair few who were in their dressing gowns and one or two women in their fancy attire, but with their hair down as though they'd dressed hastily. He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he wondered what color Cora's dressing gown would be, what her hair would look like free from it's knot.

And just like that, she was there. The guards ushered her down the steps in her red dress to where the King was sitting in his throne with Eva and his son at his sides. He watched as her eyes searched the crowd and remembered the promise he'd made to her. He'd promised to keep close, so that was what he would do. Dawning a hood he appeared again at the back of the crowd and made his way forward where he stared at Cora until she saw him. She smiled. It was small and unassuming, but when she tore her eyes off of him and back to the King, she held her head a little higher. What a gorgeous neck she had…

He watched with the crowd then as a soldier followed her down the stairs and leaned down to whisper something in the Kings ear. He reeled back from the man after a second. Staring at him with wide eyes and confusion before the soldier reached out to drop something small into his hand. It would have been too small to recognize if not for the way the golden straw winked in the early sunlight.

The soldier moved aside as the King rose to address them. "The Sorceress, it seems…speaks the truth," he proclaimed.

There were gasps and murmurings from the crowd, fearful noises that he didn't quite understand. She'd spun straw into gold, not babies into wigs. Their reaction was childish and ignorant. But Cora seemed unmoved by it. She only glanced around at the crowd her eyes lingering on him longer and longer each time they passed. He could see relief in her stoic figure. Her life was her own again. Her child would live to cast the curse and until that day came…perhaps they'd have some fun along the way. He nearly lost his head and giggled at such a thought. Where had that come from?

"Of course!" the King cried out suddenly over the noise. "There is but one last thing to prove…" Cora's eyes widened, and he felt her magic settle over the room as the crowd began to move. The spinning wheel, stool and all, had been brought forward. "Show us," the King demanded. "Show us this was no trick of the servants in the night."

"Servants in the night?!" Cora cried out at him. "As if they could produce this power and I could not! Showing you wasn't part of the deal!"

"And you've no right to speak to me, your King, in that tone," he argued back with a remarkably level tone. "For one wishing to marry my son, my pleasure should be your highest priority. I'm not asking much, just a token, merely a trifle of what you've already done is any indication. This is only a parlor trick."

"I'm no monkey."

"And you'll be nothing if you do not do as I say," he spat back. "Becoming royalty is within your reach, my dear…you've just one last step to take."

He held his breath as he watched her. She wasn't one to freely submit, but he'd seen her do it yesterday when her life depended on it. Now he only needed her to do it again as much as it pained her. She really was very close to changing her life for the better she had only to do this one last thing!

"Do it!" he growled under his breath. He was certain that no one had heard him, but Cora's eyes found his own at his words. Fiery as her gaze was, he nodded, urging her forward. She could do this. Though he knew she hated to be made a puppet, he knew that she could do what was requested of her. Fighting it too much only made her look weak, as if she couldn't do it.

Finally, she let out a sigh and stalked over to the wheel. She sat down before it and arranged her gown as she placed a bit of the straw they'd given her into the little cup. He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them once more, they fell upon him, and once more a blaze of power flooded the room in an invisible rush only he could feel. Her foot pressed on the treadle. The wheel spun to life. Her fingers began to fly through the rhythm that she'd developed over the long hours that night and-

Straw to gold.

When her body stopped working, and he pried his eyes away from her face to look at the spools, he saw the unmistakable glimmer that meant she'd succeeded even under this pressure. She had potential…in more ways than one. He knew it, she knew it, and now they would too.

"Here!" she proclaimed, grabbing the gold thread and taking it to where the King sat upon his throne. "Here's your gold."

The King took it in his hands and examined it. "This…did you really do it?" he questioned with stupid wonder.

Cora smirked. "You saw it with your own eyes."

"You're just a miller's daughter," he sneered as he looked at her in disbelief.

Cora only squared her shoulders. "I am so much more," she stated with confidence.

"You've earned him!" the King finally proclaimed.

From there, he imagined it was like a fairy tale. As the King turned to show other royalty the golden thread, his son, Prince Henry, moved from where he had been standing, took Cora by the hand, and took a knee.

"Cora…if you will do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage," he recited perfectly as the crowd watched with wide astonished eyes.

Her eyes were blank, unfeeling as she stared down at him and finally answered, "Yes."

And so, the miller's daughter was about to become a Princess. But before the Prince rose to his feet to offer her a kiss on the cheek, her gaze moved off of her prize and out to the place he stood among the crowd. Her blank expression hardened into pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. There shouldn't be anything too surprising in this chapter. We did see this scene in the show, I just had to expand it a bit to make it suitable for the fiction.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Little note for you, because I know I have at least one fan of the pairing and I don't want anyone to think they are tarnished, Rumple and Margery-don't panic! I know that in this chapter he questions her name and that seems like he's forgotten her, he hasn't. He knows her name. Weird fact, I don't know how or why to explain it, strange seeing as how I wrote the thing, but Rumple does remember Margery and does cherish the relationship they had. But, throughout this fiction there will be moments where he pretends he doesn't know her name, like this chapter, and other times he clearly does. There are reasons why. Many. It's Rumple. The trick is to ask yourself why at any one moment he chooses to pretend like he doesn't know her or why he chooses to remember. And if it doesn't matter to you because you didn't like the relationship, you can disregard this entire message! Peace and Happy Reading!


	23. A Most Dangerous Game

Royal weddings were extravagant affairs. They were never planned in a day, or even a week. At minimum they took months, especially when there was so much for the bride to learn. Soon after her engagement, it became obvious to Cora that Prince Henry was only distantly in line for the throne, the chances she'd ever be Queen were slim, but not impossible. But regardless of that fact, Henry and Cora, once they were married, were to be given their own spit of land to rule over for the King and Queen. There was a lot to teach her before she could marry Henry and be crowned as Princess, and the King wasn't going to allow her to marry his son without that education.

And so, the wedding was planned so distantly down the road it felt like something that would never get there. But a lengthy engagement suited him just fine. Aside from politics, there was much for Cora to learn.

She was a promised woman, and a part of him acknowledged that was dangerous, but after that night together in the tower, he just couldn't stop spending time with her. During the day the King and the Prince, the Kingdom and the palace could have her. But night was their time. After the castle had gone to bed or Cora had pronounced she was retiring, he'd gotten good at slipping into the castle under cover of darkness to see her. They'd met every night since the Prince had proposed and she'd moved in. And she knew it was wrong too, dangerous, but he suspected that she got a secret thrill out of the running around. He suspected it, because he got a secret thrill out of running around behind the backs of so many. Not that they were ever discreet. They'd been nearly caught more than a few times, and knowing that the fate for Cora, if caught, would be death, one of the first things he'd taught her had been privacy. He taught her how to place a spell upon the reflective surfaces in the rooms they used. It wouldn't make them unusable, he taught her, but it would make sure no sound came from them. To stay hidden from view, she simply had to place a blanket over them. It was usually only after the blanket went over the mirrors, once the illusion of complete privacy was achieved, that their meetings turned into something more.

The reason for seeing her was always under the pretense of learning magic, but more often than not, there lessons turned into late-night rendezvous that involved learning far more than magic. It wasn't exactly their fault, not always at least. Their classroom kept moving and shifting. First, they'd met in the tower she'd originally been imprisoned in, it was there that he'd given her Morgan's book, so she could learn even while he wasn't present. And it was there that the noise of their embraces had drawn the curiosity of the servants and forced them out. Into the garden next time, underneath the moonlight, where they discussed plants and herbs and the purposes of each in magic, before the gardeners had heard voices and they'd taken shelter in the little gardening shed and quieted their laughter with passionate kisses. He taught her about potions in the kitchen when all the maids had gone to sleep, and that was when they'd learned that she was ticklish just under her ribs and he'd first gotten away with holding her breast in the palm of his hand as she groaned at the path his lips made over her neck. He'd gotten, perhaps, a bit too aggressive when he pushed closer and when she'd reached back to balance her weight on the table, she'd suddenly shrieked as blood covered her hand. She'd cut herself on a knife, and they'd barely escaped before they'd been caught. He taught her how to heal herself that night.

Today they'd been talking about spells in the ballroom. It was brazen and daring, considering all the possible reflective surfaces that couldn't be covered with a blanket, but they'd needed a large space. Tonight he was teaching her how to move air and make wind capable of gusting and knocking opposing forces backward. This time, it was her that got a touch too aggressive, only with magic instead of his body. Eventually, she'd knocked the King's throne back. A maid in the next room had come running and they had taken off running. In the back of his mind, he knew it was ridiculous. He was the fucking Dark One! He could disappear and reappear at a second's notice, and yet here he was, chasing after Cora, hand in hand, letting her push him into a room and close the door where they hid from a mere non-magical mortal! It was childish. But maybe that was the reason it was also fun. He liked the way she shrank into him and allowed him to hold her closer as they suppressed their laughter and listened in the hallway, praying those maids wouldn't come in to clean this place next or search it for the reasons behind the noises. By now, it should have been at the forefront of their mind not to make so much noise.

But hiding did have its perks. When the sounds they heard outside finally passed and they realized they were safe from discovery, they were finally free to look at each other, let out a peal of riotous laughter before Cora leaned up to kiss him once more. Deeply. Urgently. As it always did the passion grew and just as he let out a sigh and had the urge to take a breath, he felt a pull against his arms and he pushed until Cora was up against a wall, smiling with drunken happiness he was confident he shared in before kissing her again so that their mouths opened and he tasted the chocolate she'd had for dessert on her tongue.

The magic they were teaching each other was most certainly not limited to spells and potions. It was a dangerous game they were playing right under the nose of the King and her fiancé, but at the moment, he didn't particularly care to stop. And for the first time, he didn't feel as though he had too.

Meeting Cora meant more than secret mid-night meetings. It was a timeline. For the first time since he'd acquired his power of foresight, he had a sense of time. He wasn't searching blindly for random faces and events. He was waiting for Cora. For her child. For Regina to get old enough to cast a curse. To hate Snow White enough to cast the curse. No, Cora wasn't even pregnant yet, it might be a couple of years until her firstborn came along, but it wouldn't be long. And from there it was what? Twenty years? Thirty? Thirty-five? To anyone else, it might seem long, but he'd waited a century already. Next to that, another thirty-five years was nothing. And if Cora was there with him, why shouldn't he enjoy this time with her?

Suddenly, Cora broke away. Her chest was heaving, making him need more than anything to bend down and place another kiss at the indent at the top of her cleavage as he caught his own breath.

"You've gone rigid again, Darling," she finally breathed.

"Have I?' he questioned with false surprise. She complained of that whenever this happened. When he was with her and his thoughts drifted to his son. He hadn't known his body would react to those thoughts but she sensed it every time. Not that she understood it, he had yet to actually explain to her the reason for it. "Merely taking in the scenery," he excused moving away from her and letting his eyes wander around the room they'd taken shelter in. "Where did we end up?"

The room was big, but simple. A single lit fireplace against the wall and book after book sat upon shelf after shelf. There was a desk and high-backed chair pushed against one wall. Another table with chairs around it was in the center of the room. And by the fireplace big, plump, soft-looking armchairs that looked like they'd be a joy to snuggle up in with a loved one or a book.

"The Library," Cora said, stating what he'd already put together. "Xavier's personal library, to be specific. Fortunately, he goes to bed early. And better yet, it's fortunate that Henry and I will be moving to an estate of our own after we're married. I can't wait…he's not exactly what a prince should be, but I'd rather live there with him for an eternity than stay in this place with his father breathing down my neck. I hate that man, and yet…Henry could stand to be a little more like him," she sighed falling down into one of the armchairs, so her legs were kicked over the side of it.

Her musings were not news to him. This was a dangerous game they'd been playing but he knew that her side of the game was more difficult than his own was. He had to be secretive for her sake, but it was she who led a double life. She had to be a future princess, madly in love with her own "Prince Charming" during the day as she was taught manners and etiquette and all that she needed to know in order to be a princess one day. But then at night, with him…she became this. Magical. Beautiful. Rude. Arrogant. A sorceress. And if the look she was giving him from that chair had the proper effect, a temptress like he'd never imagined existed. It had to be difficult for her, but gods was it intoxicating to him!

He was about to give into her beckoning eyes, to pull her down onto that rug and maybe feel for something lower than her chest, but the second he took a step closer, he encountered something magical that stopped him in his tracks. Focused as he'd been on Cora, it was as though he was a dog who had just smelled a cat, and the feeling was so unexpected it distracted him from the beautiful woman wordlessly calling him closer.

"Rumple…Rumple, what is it, my dear?"

He didn't know. He was looking around, trying to identify the source of the magic when…there it was. His heart began to flutter as he moved closer to it, wondering if it was what he thought it was.

Yes…Dark One magic. It had been created by a former, and therefore he had the memories of the creation. He knew exactly what had gone into the making of it, and the reason it existed, he only had to tap into those memories from…four Dark One's before him. A King who had been cruel and punishing to his sons after losing the first and most beloved in an accident. The King had wanted a way always to know where they were the more they rebelled against him. So he'd made a deal with a Dark One who fashioned this — a globe made of magic. White on the surface, with no identifiable landmasses, inside it hummed from magic, perhaps recognizing his as he recognized it's.

 _"Valuable,"_ the Seer's voice whispered in his ear. _"Find the boy!"_

"Rumple, are you alright?" he felt Cora's hand upon his shoulder and felt her warmth next to him. She was concerned. He, on the other hand, felt ecstatic.

"This globe…do you know where it came from?"

She gave it a glance before shaking her head. "No, of course not, as if Xavier had time to waste on telling me stories. Why? What is it?"

He plucked it off the table and brought it closer to the light, where it was easier to see. "It was made by a Dark One, hundreds of years ago. It can find anyone, anywhere, any realm. Or so the King it was given to was told." He searched the foreign memories once more and confirmed it. Yes, that was what it did. The King hadn't been lied to, which meant…

The tip of the globe was sharp, meant to pierce skin even skin as thick as his own was these days. Cora hissed out his name when she saw what he'd done but didn't stop him from letting his hand hover over the mass of white and swirled on the surface as though it were made of water. He watched with eager anticipation, hardly feeling it when Cora took his hand to heal the puncture on his finger as slowly something began to form along the white of the globe. And island. A single solitary island in the entire world with only one little pinprick in the water a fair distance from it. It was red, the precise color of the blood he'd dropped onto it, but he hunched his shoulders in frustration and did his best not to reach out and toss the thing across the room.

Neverland.

The globe had found his blood. But it had found his blood one generation in the wrong direction!

And Bae…

"Do you know where that is?" Cora asked next to him as the image, no longer needed, began to swirl and fade.

"No," he lied with a growl. Maybe it wasn't that it didn't work, but that it couldn't. Bae had gone to a Land Without Magic that much was clear. By very definition, then, magic couldn't work in that land, and nothing for it would work here…not unless he changed the Land Without Magic into a Land With Magic. On that day the globe might be useful, which was the only reason he wasn't destroying it now. But until then…

"And who is it you're trying to find, exactly?" Cora prodded next to him.

That answer, truth or lie, certainly didn't come as easily as the last question. As an unwritten rule, he'd spoken of his son to almost no one since he'd gone away, save for one conversation with the Blue Fairy and another with Milah and a final one with the Seer. Beyond that, there were times that he'd mentioned he had a son, to comfort or manipulate others into trusting him; in this case, he was certain he'd mentioned it to Cora once, on the night they met, but he hadn't spoken his name. Not aloud, not to another. Telling someone else, explaining the reason behind his dealings, and how he'd failed in them, it seemed wrong. And thankfully, in his situations, the people he mentioned it to generally didn't care. In truth, it was because he hadn't ever had a relationship with any one of them, not since Bae had left had he bothered himself with just trivialities. But now with Cora, things had changed in the last month. What once seemed like an endless stretch of unknown time suddenly had an end date. The time was coming! And the brown-haired woman he'd seen in his bed, the one from his vision…if it was Cora, if things had truly shifted to the point that he had a partner in all of this, why not tell that someone. He had done a lot of terrible, awful things since becoming the Dark One, the part of him that was still human recognized that sometimes, that all the trickery, murder, and deception had to return to him at some point. Yet, all of those terrible things were far easier to confess than what had happened with his own flesh and blood.

"My son," he muttered in a voice so low he was certain he'd have to repeat himself but prayed he didn't. If she asked him to, he might lose his nerve and reconsider.

"Your son…" she repeated thankful. "You mentioned him the night we met. You lost him?" she guessed correctly.

He bit the inside of his cheek until it bled. He'd never thought of it that way before. He'd never thought of it with such an active and careless verb, but he supposed…yes, it was right.

"Many, many years ago," he confirmed. "I am…quite old, you know."

"I've assumed," she answered. For a while, there was silence a time when he didn't know how to go on, and he could sense Cora wanted so badly to ask a question it was beginning to make his skin itch. "How long ago was it?" was finally what came out of her mouth, and he was almost happy she'd asked it in the way she had and not pondered how old Bae was when he'd gone missing.

"A little over a hundred years now…"

Cora was a pale woman, there wasn't much color to her except for the color she added to her face artificially. But his words he swore that even that drained out of her face. She'd assumed he was old but hadn't assumed he was that old.

"Cat got your tongue?" he questioned with a smile, thankful they could move onto something to do with him rather than Baelfire.

"No, it's just…Rumple, if it's been over a hundred years, how can you be sure that your son is-"

"Alive?" he finished for her, unwilling to hear such a thing from her lips. He supposed they hadn't quite moved on as he thought they had. "I know," he promised. "I know he's still alive for the same reason that I know that your daughter will one day help me get back to him."

"And that reason is…"

Again he paused. Tell, don't tell? It was quite the conundrum. When he glanced over at her, he knew he was going to have to tell her something; the question was, just how much was he going to have to tell.

"Because I see the future," he answered. "It's a very uncertain difficult practice. But the future dictates that one day the firstborn of Princess Cora will cast the spell that will take me to the land where my son is."

"Princess…"

"Yes, that's how I knew you could be more than a Miller's daughter," he'd made the comment off-handedly, but now that he was looking at her once more, he knew he'd made a mistake. She looked away from him, her eyes wide her mouth open…she looked hurt. Should he not have told her that bit?

"That and…your tenacity," he whispered turning away from the globe and pulling her into his arms. "The power that I sensed inside of you…" he kissed one side of her neck, "…your determination…" he kissed the other side and she began to smile as he turned back to her mouth. "And-"

"Quit while you're ahead, my dear Rumple," she interrupted before throwing herself back into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're expanding on Cora a little mostly because I really don't see them having a week-long affair. I always assumed that the backstory in this episode covered a longer period of time just because he went from teaching her beginners magic to Cora excelling and I felt that she needed more than a week for that. But never fear, because while we're going to explore their relationship, we're also going to take advantage of the opportunity to address some other things. So, let me take the opportunity, in this author's note, to let you in on a little secret. One of the reasons this fiction is so long is because it has a big job to do. This isn't just "hey, let's get the Dark Curse all setup and go", this fiction is the set up for every single season, from here to the end. And because it's a companion with Moments, it's the set up to every Moments fiction as well. Every single thing that is said in Storybrooke, every object given away in the store, every reference that is made...this is where it starts. Well...not in the Cora Section, at least not all of it, but throughout this fiction, there are certain chapters dedicated simply to setting up future fictions and scenes and chapters in Moments that we know are coming! Usually, these chapters begin with one of two questions. "How does X get Y?" or "Why does X need Y?" So, this for example, sets up season two and happens to answer both of those question. In season two Cora comes to Storybrooke, she shows up in the shop, speaks with knowledge of Baelfire, and she gives Rumple the globe. How does she know about Baelfire, why does she know that he needs the globe, why hasn't he taken it before? This chapter was dedicated to answering those questions and I hope you like the explanation. Oh, all but the last question of course. Why he doesn't take it for himself...we'll get there. In addition, this chapter had to be compatible with Chapter 47 of Moments Seen and Unseen when Rumple explains his relationship with Cora to Belle.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I do hope you like this chapter and the chapters that are added to this fiction for Cora. This was a huge project to undertake. Did I get it all right and perfect? I hope so, but I acknowledge that I probably didn't. I'm sure somewhere something is missing. But I know there will be grace given in those situations and what I am certain of is that they will be few and far between! Peace and Happy Reading!


	24. Her Gilded Prison

Cora was dying. Not physically, not even magically, but the sudden spike in Cora's abilities reflected the inner turmoil she was experiencing, and it wasn't good. Only a month before the wedding, and after she'd set out to set a piece of paper on fire and instead had lit the entire table on fire, she confessed that what he suspected was true. Cabin fever, as he'd sometimes heard it described, could happen in a cabin or a hovel, but Cora was proof that it could spring up even in the biggest of castles among those who felt the loneliest and those, like Cora, who were doted upon by servants and fiancés. Their stolen meetings in the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning were enough at first to counteract her busy schedule, but it no longer was. When that had happened, he wasn't entirely sure; it had been developing for so long. But now that it had happened, he could see all too easily how the castle had become her cage. When she placed her head at the window and gazed out into the village she once despised, what he really saw was her straining at the bars of her jail cell. There was a part of her that was dying inside from it, eating up part of what she'd been before and replacing it with something else, something cruel and cold.

"Where were you?!" she demanded when he was only a few minutes late for their lessons. She was upset, but his mind was still thinking the wheels turning with the information he'd gathered since they'd last been with one another.

"Forgive me," he begged with a smile, walking over to steal a kiss from her. "I got held up with some research for a deal."

"What research? What deal?!" she practically screamed at him. In fact, he was certain she'd have screamed louder if not for the late hour. "Who were you with?!"

Was it jealousy he saw in her eyes, the same kind he sometimes felt when she spent the day with her Prince Henry? Or was it something more?

Something more…that was what he chose to believe. It wasn't who he'd been with or what they'd been doing merely that he had been out in the world with someone else while she'd been here, parts of her soul rotting away in his absence.

"I was with no one. Simply doing a bit of…reconnaissance," he giggled, slipping over to the fire and into her chair.

She crossed her hands over her chest and narrowed her gaze. "For what…"

"A legendary object for which I've been searching for quite a long time."

She was in a sour mood, but the truth was that now that he'd found this object, he was in a happy mood. No, he knew, according to the Seer's Prophecy in his head, that was not the way he was destined to get back to Baelfire, but he was a firm believer after all these years that every little thing he could have in his store hold would be helpful. Even this, ludicrous as even he admitted it was.

"And when will you go about making a deal for this…'legendary object'?"

Now it was his turn to meet her angry gaze with a cautious one of his own. He didn't come over here night after night to be examined or tested, and he certainly didn't come over here to have his plans scrutinized by her, especially when he was positive that he wasn't the real problem.

"When the time is right," he commented. "I've identified the weak links in the chain and set the wheels in motion to create an environment that might place my prize right in my lap. Tell me, dearie, is it really me you are angry with, or Henry, for dragging you out for a walk in the gardens for the hundredth time this afternoon?"

He'd hit the nail on the head, an expression that she'd never understand because he found it wasn't bound to be useful in this land, but it was still the best thing he could think of to describe the thoughts he saw changing before his eyes. Her face softened, her shoulders slumped forward the iron grip she'd had on her arms fell away as they dropped to her sides. She let out a sigh and walked over to sit down upon the arm of the chair he rested in.

"I'm really starting to hate that garden," she stated. "I'm sorry, my darling. I never intended to-"

"Quite alright, quite alright," he dismissed, moving his arms around her waist so that he could place his forehead just at the small of her back. "I know you've been feeling trapped here, like a firefly straining against the jar a child puts it in, but…I've got a plan, a surprise!"

"A surprise?!" she exclaimed, turning to face him. Ah, now there was the light in her eyes he loved to see. "For me?!"

"It's not ready quite yet, but I promise, when it is, it will be an experience you'll be thrilled to take."

It was only a few days after that everything was ready. While she spent her days becoming a princess and courting her future husband, he spent his days in a different Kingdom altogether, where the King was a savage man who had captured a beast, a man trapped by a witch in a terrible curse that could not be broken. It was the fate of the scorned lover that she never wanted to see his face again, and so she'd given him the head of a bull and the mind of one too. The Kingdom called the beast the Minotaur. Many years after the curse was cast, none other than the King himself came into procession of the Minotaur. He'd had a labyrinth constructed to house the beast. A King like that had never been gifted with a wife, no woman would have him, and it had only made his hatred of the fairer sex grow. He had plenty of half children by those he took advantage of when he needed his cock stroked but none that would inherit his Kingdom. For sport, he'd issued a challenge. Every year seven of the most beautiful men and women were rounded up, imprisoned, and every day for one week, they were let loose in the minotaur's labyrinth. If they managed to kill the Minotaur and find their way out, then the King would adopt them, and they would inherit the Kingdom. But no one was ever successful. The Minotaur's appetite was insatiable. He'd eaten every last offering that had been lost in that dark maze. The longest had lasted two hours.

It was a fascinating beast, but the Minotaur was only a small part of the plan he had to fetch his future property. In that same kingdom, there was a girl from a poor family. It was an old story. Her mother and father had loved each other truly and had more children than they could take care of. A couple of years ago, things grew worse when the father had died from disease. Now the family was near destitution. But one of the girls, she was beautiful; dirty constantly, but beautiful. And on her shoulders, completely unaware of the magic it possessed and the wealth she could gain from it was a fleece of gold. It should have been an easy sale, and it might have been if not for the fact that he'd learned the fleece had sentimental value to her. Her father had given it to her just before he'd died. And now everywhere that Mary went that fleece was sure to go. It would take an offer of something more important than money to get her to part with it. And so he'd made arrangements for her to be on the same street while the King was passing by one afternoon before the Minotaur's offering week. Now, he was happy to hear that she, and that wonderful fleece of hers, had been locked away in a jail cell, awaiting her opportunity to go into the maze and kill the Minotaur.

He'd left her there for a couple of days, left her family to try unsuccessfully to break her out, left her to unsuccessfully try to leave on her own, left her to learn for herself that there was no escape. Not without help.

The night before she was to be offered, he appeared in Cora's room with Donna held tight in his fist.

"Get dressed, I have a surprise for you…" he informed her.

"A…doll? I grew out of those before I ever grew into them, Rumple," she commented, looking over the puppet in his hand. But her skills were growing, and after only a second, he watched her face as she located the magic that rolled off of it. "A magic doll?"

He pulled Cora away from her bed and set the object upon it. With a wave of his hand, the doll became Donna once more, sitting there properly, hands folded in her lap as her eyes stared blankly ahead. Cora jumped at the sudden presence, then watched as he waved his hand one more time and Donna's long blonde locks became dark brown, her long face shortened, her lips plumped, her toes reached to the floor, and her ordinary peasant gown became the beautiful white and flowing nightgown Cora wore over her shoulders now. Cora was speechless as what looked back at her now was not Donna, but herself.

She stood motionless as he stepped up to the doll, reached his hand into her chest, and withdrew her red beating heart. "Your name is Cora in this form. You will finish reading your book by the fire, then go to bed. If someone knocks on the door, tell them you're not decent and tired, you'll talk in the morning. If they insist on speaking tonight, tell them you'll meet them in the ballroom in five minutes and say the name of Rumpelstiltskin three times."

He whispered the instructions into her heart, and when he put the thing back into her chest, she took a great gasp of air, and looked around the room. She ignored their presence entirely, then went to the fire, picked up the book Cora had been reading a moment ago, and began to read just as she'd been ordered. It wasn't perfect, but it would fool someone enough to give them time to return before people truly started to question her.

When he turned back to Cora, her eyes were wide, still staring at her new doppelganger with a mix of awe and horror before he turned and put her hand in his own. "I have a deal to make tonight. I wondered if you'd accompany me?"

For a moment she simply stared at him, doing nothing so that he wanted to look behind him and make sure that Donna was still in the chair and the real Cora before him, but before he could she breathed out an "oh, yes!" and launched herself into his arms. Cora kissed him in a way that no doll could ever fake. He would have been happy to stay there all night, to continue kissing her and maybe even doing a little more than kissing finally, but he'd been planning this deal for some time now and if they didn't go to her tonight tomorrow morning Mary would be dead and who knew what that Minotaur would do to it while he ate her, how it would affect the magic of the fleece. They had to go tonight, he explained to Cora, and in only a few minutes she was dressed warmly, the fake Cora was stretching by the fire as if tired, and he was explaining that to take her with him she was going to have to hold on tight to him.

"Teach me how!" she urged, a montra by which he swore she lived by. She was so fiercely independent that any suggestion that she rely on his magic resulted in an insistence that he simply just teach her.

"Later, there's no time now."

"Rumple…" It was the closest thing to a whine he'd ever heard her utter.

"I will teach you, but…I've been working on finding this object for years and it's taken me weeks to set this deal in motion. I don't have time to teach you when it's at stake."

She didn't like that response, she didn't like it at all. "After, then…you'll teach me to come and go as I please after."

It was half a request, half an order. But he didn't have time to negotiate, the time was ripe. This had to get done.

"Of course," he agreed holding out his arm so that she could move closer to him. There was only one last thing. "Before we go, you need to know that when I broker a deal, I may say some things you don't understand or don't agree with, but I promise...with you I've only ever spoken truth. Anything you hear tonight-"

"Is just part of the act, I understand, Rumple. Let's go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally intended this chapter to be with the next chapter, but then they both grew and I separated him. I'm sorry that means this chapter sort of becomes filler for the next one, but the deal they are going off to make is actually a really important one for Chronicles. This character that will benefit in the end is one that I think the writers meant to use more, if scripts I've seen are to be believed, but we only ever really see him once or maybe twice, no lines at all. They didn't use him much in the series beyond season one, but I found a lot of use for him, or should I say, his family, in this fiction. Any guesses?
> 
> Big thank yous going out to RolfB for your continued comments on the last chapter. And a special shoutout to anyone who caught the little gem of last chapter! The globe Rumple looks at, when he wants to find his son it points him to Neverland and Rumple thinks it's wrong and has found his father. He doesn't realize that at this moment Baelfire is in Neverland and therefore the globe did its job. As to this chapter, Donna makes another appearance. They're pretty helpful tools to have in his box, aren't they! Peace and Happy Reading!


	25. The Golden Deal

The prisoners of the Minotaur were always kept in the very building the maze was. It made things easier if they could simply let them out of their cell and then lead them down the hall to the entrance and lock them in. Though they only ever sent seven virgins in during the week, they always took ten simply because the conditions in the cell were so dismal there were always a few who didn't make it. The cells were cold and made out of stone. They contained no fireplace, no bed, no hay…it was simply a small square room where one had no choice but to find the least cold bit of earth and lay down there to sleep. The cell door was heavy, with only a small door on the bottom that unlatched from the outside, allowing the guards to shove a bit of bread and cheese inside every morning.

The prisoners were kept in the dark, both literally and figuratively. Once caught they remained in their cages with no indication until the night before as to whether or not they would be going into the maze. Even then, the only word they received on the matter was an extra portion of food shoved into their cell the night before with the words "last meal" shouted at them. It was cruel, but the King was a smart man who used cruelty as a veiled attempt to ferret out those who were "worthy" according to him. "You wouldn't want the Kingdom run by someone who couldn't handle a little suffering" was often his response to his critics, and somehow, for those families who had not lost children to his fun and games, the logic made sense.

He'd found out only an hour before going to retrieve Cora that Mary had been chosen as the next day's victim. He'd been doing his due diligence, but with Cora he found he couldn't be two places at once and there was a certain family of shapeshifters here who would have starved long ago if not for the breadcrumbs they ate off the streets. For a little golden thread, they were all too happy to keep watch on the prison for him, and the guards and King thought nothing of an extra bird in the room when discussing the week ahead.

"The girl, Mary…you won't hurt her, will you?"

"What do my plans for her matter to you?" he'd inquired.

"Nothing," he laughed away. "It's only…she's sweet."

The look in his eyes had not been part of his original plan, but love did tend to make men stupid. And he wouldn't turn down the extra help if he could get it, especially if it came free.

"Tell you what…tomorrow, before she's taken to the maze of the Minotaur, like all the others she'll be searched for any weapons she may have on her."

"Right, the King expects the beast to be destroyed through strength alone…it's what he claims makes a King strong, and it's bollocks to expect it from a girl like that."

"Exactly!" he'd giggled before pulling a small, lightweight knife barely the size of his thumb from his cloak. "But with this…the beast will fall."

He reached out and took it in his palm. "What? Something so small?"

"Well it's not the size that will get you…it's the poison inside the blade," he whispered behind his hand, despite knowing no one else had been in the woods to hear them. "That poison is made to destroy the witch's magic rapidly. Dear sweet Mary only needs to get one good cut in on the monster and all this, everything you see will someday be hers. Play your cards right, and it might just be yours too."

He'd laughed at the expression of shock on the poor lad's face. His secret had been discovered, and he was actually surprised by that! But how could he not know. These boys, hopelessly and romantically in love with "sweet girls", they all had the same look on their faces and the same tone in their voices when they spoke of them. It betrayed each of them in an instant.

"This little blade is essential to Dear Mary's freedom, and it just so happens that it's small enough for a dove to carry in his leg as he flies into that maze to lay it just at the door for the guards to overlook and our Sweet Champion to discover. I'll even do you one better, tonight, after she's gotten her last meal, I'll creep into the place and tell her you've left it for her. This time tomorrow, she'll be alive, and the kindness that pumps through her body will desire nothing more than to find you so that she can thank you."

Once more he looked down at the tiny dagger in his hand, he traced his fingers over the metal, and the pressure made it catch the sun and flash in front of them like a wink.

"What would you want in return?"

"Oh…" he'd scoffed, waving his hand away as though it was nothing when he was about to demand the highest price of all. Truth was he'd gotten used to having a lacky to do a bit of spying for him. He was confident there were many uses for a man, or a family with those talents. "Nothing but the loyalty of your family. If I should ever need a favor or a bit of muscle or…a carrier pigeon…just a little help of my own."

At that very moment a horn had sounded from within the walls of the city, from the castle where the labyrinth was buried. It was a sound he was only just getting used to, but one that his new friend knew well throughout his life. A tribute had just fallen. And he couldn't have timed it better if he'd tried. The boy had excepted the deal, he'd gone to fetch Cora, and now he and Cora stood in a small cold and dark cell, and he was ready to put his plans in place.

"Knock, knock!" he proclaimed loudly. "Room service!"

There was a shriek and then a gasp and the sound of rustling. His sensitive eyes could pick up the small girl who had been bundled in the corner, desperately reaching for her flint so that she might light the lantern they were all "gifted" with. Only enough oil for a few hours. That light was precious, he was almost honored she'd lit it in front of the pair of them. When she finally got it lit he watched as Cora shielded her eyes from the sudden brightness, but he simply looked straight ahead, using his magic to adjust his eyes so that he didn't come across as too human.

The poor child was shaking. Every inch of her visible skin was black and brown with dirt and mud, there were dark circles under her eyes. Her clothes were wet and tattered, and her hair was oily and disgusting. The room smelled like shit and piss, and he was certain it wasn't from the remains of her food which sat almost untouched at the little slot by the door. He didn't want to know what the girl had been laying in.

"Wh-wh-who are you?!" she demanded. "How did you get in here?! What are you doing here?!"

"Me?" he questions, touching his chest. "Well, I've come to bring you help! Salvation! You've quite the admirer outside of these walls."

"What?" she asked with confusion, her eyes suddenly falling on Cora who stood a fair distance away with her nose wrinkled. "Who is she?"

"She is of no consequence! I, on the other hand, happen to know exactly what you need to escape your fate tomorrow."

There was an instant shine to the girl's eyes as she lowered her lamp and took a step away. She was crying, and if the stains on her cheeks were any indication, she'd been crying long before he appeared.

"Don't you know…haven't you heard? My fate isn't something that can be escaped. No one survives this! No one ever has, no one ever will! This time tomorrow…I'll be dead!" she cried out before falling against the back wall and sinking down into it. The fleece was around her shoulders, just as dirty and smelly as she was. It appeared he'd arrived just in time.

"Ah…you see, that is where you would be mistaken," he urged breathlessly. She didn't need a clown or a magician or a deal maker. The girl needed a friend, something to give her hope. He could play that role.

"What?" she asked quietly, wiping her nose with her finger.

"Right now, as we speak there is a man, quite fond of you, who is placing at the entrance to your maze a small blade," he used a bit of magic to summon up an image of the dagger he'd crafted so that she could see it. After all, he couldn't have her accidentally picking up the wrong shiny object. These peasants were desperate, but desperation didn't circumvent stupid. She'd need all the help she could get tomorrow.

"Why…why would he do that?"

"Well, haven't I already explained that?" he asked. "He's fond of you. It would break his heart to see you never come out of that maze."

She sniffled, and the corner of her mouth raised ever so slightly. "It would?"

"It would…but!" he shouted before she could lose focus. "Killing the beast is only half the battle. The dagger will work, indeed all it will take is a single small scratch, and the creature will die in seconds. But the King's challenge isn't just to kill the beast; it's to find your way out of the maze again."

She didn't cast her eyes down at the pronouncement of the challenge, not the way she had earlier. Suddenly, in her eyes, there was a strength that he had yet to see from her. She had hope again. She just had to use it.

"You…you can help me with that. You can help me out of the maze?"

"Indeed I can…behold!" he held his hand out into the light and called from his tower a large spool of golden thread that appeared there before her. She let out a little gasp as she looked down at it.

"Thread?"

"Golden thread," he corrected. "It winks with even the smallest bit of light!" To demonstrate, he unspooled just a bit of it and moved it about in the lamplight. She took a deep breath and smiled at it with wonder. "Once they've locked you in and you've located the dagger by the door, tie this string to the door and let it out behind you as you move about. Once you've killed the monster, follow it back out to freedom."

She'd been smiling, but as she reached out to touch it, her smile fell unexpectedly. "But…they search me before I go into the maze! Would it not be simpler for you to just take me with you now? You got in, that must mean you can get me out with you!"

From behind him, he heard a snort, and when he looked back at Cora, he saw her smirking. "Smart girl," she muttered.

"Ignorant girl!" he corrected through gritted teeth as anger suddenly rose in him. He should have told her not to say anything. If her comment jeopardized this…

"You don't want me to take you with me."

"Why not?"

"Because what this spool offers is not only freedom but riches!" he proclaimed. "With this thread, you will survive. You will find your way out of the maze, the King will adopt you, and in only a few year's time when he dies, your family will never live in poverty again. You will be Queen. Come with me, and you may save yourself. Take this thread, and you save not only yourself, but your family, and all the little children who will never have to suffer this same fate you have for the last few days."

Her eyes dilated. Perhaps Cora's comment hadn't been so destructive after all. Deal-making was a lot like fishing. Sometimes all it took was the right bait, the right amount of temptation, reel them in…then let them lose before they took it.

"But! If you don't want it and would rather hide away with me while the rest of the Kingdom-"

"No! No, wait!" she cried as he moved away from her. He stopped walking and smiled.

"Yes?" he questioned, turning back.

Mary swallowed, hard, then found her feet and stood up once more. "I'll take it! Give it to me!"

But the second she reached out to snatch it from him he pulled it away. "Well, it's not that easy, dearie!" he cried out, shaking his head. "It never is! You can't get something for nothing you know! This thread is magic, and all magic comes with a price!"

Her eyes widened in fear. "But…you already said it! I'm a pauper, I sit in this cell with nothing! My family owns nothing of value! What could I possibly give you?"

He clucked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head in remorse. "'Tis a great inquiry, but…I'll tell you what," he muttered brightening. "I'll make you a deal. I'll give you this thread for…that shawl around your shoulders."

"This old thing?" she questioned, grabbing at it. "It's nothing…just an old stained fleece my father once owned."

"Well, if it's nothing, it sounds as though it is a deal in your favor!"

Poor girl thought it was only stained. She had no idea what it was worth or what it really was. She should have been jumping at this opportunity by now, sentimental or not, why wasn't she? Why was she holding it closer around her shoulders now as she looked around the room as if searching for some kind of other offering? None of it made sense! This was far more than enough to overcome the sentimentality it had on her heart!

"You brut!" Cora suddenly called out, moving around him and toward Mary. "This poor girl! Can't you see she's half-frozen already?!"

This was a mistake. He'd thought bringing Cora would be a nice surprise and she'd understand that she was there simply to watch, this was twice she'd spoken out, and it was the first time he could ever remember getting so angry at her he was tempted to use magic to take her voice or send her elsewhere. What was she doing? Trying to ruin this deal? And since when had she grown a heart for poor innocent girls? She hadn't had sympathy for herself when she was one of them.

"Better frozen than dead!" he pointed out. "She has nothing else; I'm merely trying to help the 'poor girl'!"

Cora stared at him, her eyes silently communicating something that he couldn't translate through his anger. What was she trying to do?

"Well yes, but…" suddenly she turned her back on him and faced Mary. "Listen…give him that fleece, your debt will be paid, you'll owe him nothing and have your life, and…once the deal is made, I'll give you this cloak about my shoulders here. Go ahead, feel it! You'll agree it should be plenty to keep you warm for tonight."

Cora was…a genius! For as soon as she offered, Mary reached out to rub her hand over Cora's covered arm and smiled. The grip her other hand had on the fleece loosened. "You'd do that? For me?"

"Well, I'd be heartless not to," she smiled. "A sweet girl like you…with that golden thread and the dagger your young man is hiding now, a nice cloak for a good night's sleep before tomorrow's challenge…you are going to be the first to survive this. And imagine their wonder when it is a woman and not a man who stands victorious before them tomorrow! You'll be more than saved, you'll be a Queen. And your family…one day they will be royalty with you."

Mary's eyes shone with wonder at the picture that Cora had painted in her mind. A smile stretched over her face as she reached up and pulled the fleece off of her shoulders and handed it to Cora. She was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

"Deal!" Mary proclaimed.

He let out a laugh as he took the fleece from her and reached out to hand her the thread while Cora unclasped her own cloak to-

"Wait!" Mary cried, suddenly pulling her hand back. He would have panicked, but as she looked back and forth between him and Cora, her smile stayed fixed on her face and still bright. "What's his name?" she asked. "The boy who is hiding the dagger for me…who is he? If I live through this…I want to thank him."

He smiled as he stepped forward and took her hand in his own to open it himself. "Theseus," he informed her as he dropped the thread into her palm and Cora came up from behind to lay her own cloak over her shoulders. "His name is Theseus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this chapter. Not entirely sure why. Maybe it's seeing a bit of Cora's cleverness or some of the foreshadowing I got to write into it. The fleece, as you well know, is mentioned by Belle later in her section, but it's not really something that will become important to Rumple. But I felt like it was a really important chapter to see Rumple in all his deal-making glory. And Theseus and Mary...they will play key roles in this fiction and later it is Theseus' son who makes an appearance in Storybrooke. Again, no lines, we just see him once or twice to my memory. But I enjoyed taking a character that we only had a glimpse of and giving him a past. Kind of like Margery and Rolf, I suppose. Any guesses who he'll be in Storybrooke?
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm curious about what you'll think about this chapter and can't wait to read your reviews. I'm even more curious to hear what you're going to think about the next chapter! Oh, you didn't think he was going to rescue Cora from the castle just to take her for a deal-making field trip, did you? Want to see how this adventure ends? Then we are on to the next! Peace and Happy Reading!


	26. Steps Forward and Backward

The moment the deal was struck, he knew that he should take Cora back to Henry's Palace, but he simply wasn't ready to let her go yet. And frankly, if Donna hadn't summoned him yet at this hour, now that the castle was surely asleep, that meant there was no reason to have her back so quickly. He took her to the only place that he felt appropriate. The Dark Castle. Specifically, he took her into his tower — the place he did all of his work and magic.

She was giddy like he'd never seen her before. Smiling broad and looking around the place he'd brought her to with a knowing look in her eyes. He watched her nervously. He'd felt nervous like this before only he was embarrassed to admit that it was over Milah. The first time he'd brought her into the Hovel that he'd built with his own two hands, he could remember being so scared she'd hate it his teeth nearly chattered. Now he watched Cora with that same feeling as her eye wandered over the tower, inspecting it, scrutinizing, and observing before she wandered over to the window to look out at the view, and he saw her shiver in the chill.

She'd given up her cloak, he recalled. He owed her a new one and a fire at the very least. With a wave of his hand, it was so. Firelight jumped to life in the fireplace, and when he set aside the fleece, he used his magic to cloak her shoulders and arms with an elegant new white cloak that matched her skin perfectly. He watched her sigh as she pulled it closer and finally glanced over at him from over her shoulder.

"So…this is what you do all day?" she questioned, turning back to the room. "And this is where you live…it could use a woman's touch, Rumple. And a fresh coat of paint…and a maid!" she chastised, running her finger over one of his worktables and quickly fidgeting away the dirt. If only she knew.

"Ah, well…I had a maid once, several actually. They all failed me in horrible ways and proved to be untrustworthy," he exclaimed as she moved closer to the fireplace. "And 'live' is a term loosely used for this castle. It's where I keep my precious treasures, priceless gems from my deal-making, but it's not where I lay my head if that's what you're thinking."

She smirked as she crouched down to warm herself by the fire. "It was actually. Are you saying you have another home somewhere?"

Well, now wasn't that a question that required a complicated answer. It wasn't what he was saying, that is it wasn't the point of his comment, but the truth was that he did have another home, somewhere. Somewhere he never cared to go again actually. But how to answer. He'd promised before they left her castle tonight that he'd be honest with her. He couldn't answer with a "no" or a "yes" to that question.

"I do, but that wasn't the point of my statement. What I meant was, I don't sleep."

She looked over her shoulder at him once more, her form looking more black than white against the brightness of the fire, but he could make out her furrowed brows easily enough.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," he confirmed. "My magic keeps me going. I don't need many things a mortal needs. Not food, not sleep-"

"But I've seen you eat, Darling!" she combatted as she rose and rounded on him again.

"I _can_ do both," he confirmed with a smile. "I just don't _have_ to, and nor do I want to sleep. There's always too much to do. My mind simply doesn't shut itself off long enough for me to slumber. In my head I hear…voices…" he whispered, admitting for the first time in a long while that while he wanted to pretend they were his own entirely, they had never gone away. Not really. They'd just been absorbed and muted. But they were still there, ever-present background noise to all of his thoughts. "All the time voices…"

"Voices," Cora questioned, reaching up to move her hand over his cheek. There was no more curiosity in her voice. Only concern. Genuine concern. Concern for him? The thought that anyone would ever have such feelings for him…he wasn't used to it. "What kind of voices?"

He reached up to hold her hand in his own and kissed her fingers. They were like ice. "Previous Dark Ones as well as one former Seer," he answered, leading her back over to the fireplace and summoning up a couch for the pair of them to sit on so she might get warm. He hadn't worried about such things for years, not since he hadn't had someone to care for, not since Baelfire.

"Previous Dark One's…" she pressed as he held her hands forward to warm them. "You weren't the first?"

"Hardly," he smiled as he shook his head. "Just the latest in a long line of cursed men and women to bear this curse. Without it, I'm afraid I'm even more simple than you once were, far less impressive. A lame man from a small village with a talent for spinning that would never take him far enough to support his own son."

"How did you become this then? A deal?"

"No, it doesn't work like that, it's-"

There was a memory, an urging in his head that forced him to stop and think about what he was doing, about what he'd been about to say. Oh, she was a clever one indeed, able to get his guard down, and if she continued like this, she'd have him confessing every sin he'd ever committed before sun up! But before he could think of a change of conversation, he had to wonder…why did he need one? Could he trust her? He wouldn't have taken her deal-making with him if he didn't, so some part of him must have acknowledged that he trusted her. And if he trusted her with that then…why not more? They were the same person, weren't they. Both lowly of birth but had made themselves into more. They both powered their magic with revenge and anger, and they wanted the same things in life!

That image, the vision he'd had of the woman with brown hair in the bed beside him…it had to be someone, and it had to mean something…why not Cora? In the next breath, he couldn't help but remember that look that Theseus had in the woods with him earlier. He wondered if he had that same look now. With shaking hands, he reached down into his boot and drew out what he always carried with him. A dagger with his name scrawled across it.

"With this…" he explained. "The Dark One Dagger. My most prized possession. Whoever holds it has control of the Dark One-"

"Control? Control as in they make you a slave to them?" she questioned, sounding upset and insulted for him at the very notion. Somehow, it made his heart feel lighter.

"Essentially, yes. It's not a pleasant experience, trust me."

She didn't pry any further. Merely looked down upon the dagger and reached out to touch it with one finger. He watched as she slowly traced the outer edge then moved to each of the letters. R…U…M…P…

"'L' before 'e'!" she exclaimed, suddenly looking up at him. "But I thought you spelled your name-"

"Both ways," he answered before she could answer. "Though that is the way my father spelled it, the spelling I was born with and thus my true name. The alternative spelling is a bit of extra protection among other things. Some spells and summons require a name written, only those who possess the true spelling can use those spells against me," he explained as he slipped the dagger back into his boot. She followed up by scooting across the little couch to move closer.

"So if you didn't make a deal to become the Dark One, how did you become the Dark One."

"By killing the previous Dark One with the dagger. It's the only way a Dark One can be killed, but it's at a terrible price. Whoever kills the Dark One with the dagger takes their power."

"Mmm, sounds like a lot of power to me, if you were once worse off than me and now you're this."

"Certainly, but all magic comes with a cost. And the cost of this is invasion. It comes with the knowledge of all the Dark One's past. Endless…endless voices…"

His eyes fell closed as he listened, as he rarely did these days, to their murmurings. Anger. Anger and rage, upset at what he'd just told her. The seer's voice echoed that line over and over again, "the eldest child of Princess Cora…" The image of the brown-haired woman in bed. Baelfire. He had to find Baelfire.

He felt a hand on his cheek once more and opened his eyes to find Cora closer than she'd been before, a hand running through his hair and the other reaching out for the one on his knee.

"They're never quiet?" she wondered aloud.

"No…never…" he admitted as she leaned forward to kiss him. He accepted her affections, he let the contact move through his body and warm him in a way that the fire couldn't until he barely felt the chill from the outside world against his skin. There was only Cora. Only a beautiful woman who was far smarter than he'd ever given her credit for until tonight. The memories of her insertion into his deal this evening made him pull away with a smile. They were remarkably well suited for each other.

"You are a natural at deal-making," he whispered as she gazed at him with dozy eyes. He was happy to change the subject. Far more, perhaps, than she should have been. Was that a sign, he wondered.

"I'm a woman," she countered. "Anyone could see that fleece had no value to her, at least not anymore. She was just cold. What do you intend to do with that old thing anyway?" she questioned before wrinkling her nose and glancing over at it. "After you've cleaned it, of course. It's not as if you need golden wool to spin gold."

"No," he agreed. "But if you reach out carefully enough, you'll find that it is touched by magic. Hard to feel it over the filth, of course, but I've been searching for that golden fleece ever since I first heard the tale of it."

"And what tale is that, pray tell?"

"Oh, a remarkable one to be sure. It was said to give the sheep it came from the ability to fly. It used to save children from desperate situations-"

"Sounds like as much a fairy tale as the boogyman or the Black Fairy…if there can be dark tales, there can be good ones."

He nodded, and the corner of his mouth tugged up at the mention of his mother. Now there was a secret he wasn't ready to tell. "Even the scariest of stories are steeped in truth, my dear. This too. It was too much a temptation to let it go. I had to find it and discover for myself it's abilities."

Cora let out a breath in a very unladylike snort. "And you think it'll help you fly off to find your son?" she assumed correctly. And incorrectly at the same time.

Truthfully, no, he didn't expect it to do that.

But he could hope.

"Doubtful, but…it is worth exploring. Everything is…"

"I thought you could see the future. Can't you see how it's all meant to fall into place?"

"The power isn't my own," he said, shaking his head. "I see the future, but it's in pieces, like stepping stones scattered across a lake. I've got to discover how they fit together to get to the other side. I never lied to you, though. You play an important role in it, that was always true."

"Oh, but it's not me that is important, Rumple…" she sighed as she pulled away and moved to lounge across the other end of the couch. "It's my firstborn who is the one you truly want…that's why you made the deal you did with me."

He nodded, then reached across to grab her hand and gave her a small tug closer to him. "That's true. She will be important. But that doesn't mean her mother won't be either!"

He barely got the words out before he leaned over and kissed her again, letting his lips slip and slide against her own before letting his tongue dive into her mouth and his hands roam over her shoulders and chest…

Cora pulled away suddenly as a clock he hadn't even realized he owned until now chimed the hour. A very late hour.

"We should go," she muttered, looking him over sadly. Her pupils were wide, her lids heavy but not with tiredness. The urge in her eyes now wasn't one to sleep. And he had an urge his own all of a sudden, a call he hadn't had for nearly a hundred years. It was late. They were both adults and this castle without another presence here could, he had to admit, get quite lonely, and quiet…and cold.

"Perhaps, but then…you could always choose…to stay…"

His heart was pounding, hammering against his ribs as it hadn't for years. He could scarcely believe the words that came from his own mouth. He'd never made an offer like that. Not even to the village girl he'd gone back to check on. This wasn't like him it was…it was wild and untamed and so like Cora! He had to try, and yet, just as he'd felt after he'd told her about the dagger, he wondered if the words were the right ones. If he'd taken a step too far too soon. One hundred years old, and at the moment he felt as though he was a naughty schoolboy. His experience in these matters…even he knew they were severely lacking.

"Someday perhaps," Cora muttered. "But not tonight."

Too soon then.

He fought harder than he knew was necessary to keep his disappointment and embarrassment off of his face. But then she was there, right back beside him, her hands, warm once more caressing his cheeks.

"What kind of girl do you think I am, Rumpelstiltskin?" She asked the question with a smile, but instantly his heart raced at another dreadful thought. He'd done many shameful things in his life, and yet the thought of propositioning her had him in a panic and feeling as though he was the worst most licentious cur the world had ever seen. He opened his mouth to apologize…but quickly found it covered with her own.

"But…" she whispered between kisses, "I would like to try…to do something about those voices…"

Something about the voices?

"Something...what something?" he questioned with sudden hope and nervousness. What was she talking about?

She stopped kissing him and looked up at him once more, her lips red and chapped, her eyes big and interested.

"They're really never quiet?" she asked with curiosity as she reached up to undo the clasp of the new cloak he'd placed around her neck.

He shook his head without thinking, unable to focus on anything, but how low her gown dipped at her chest.

"They're really never quiet," he managed to choke out after clearing his throat and wetting his mouth. It had gone suddenly dry and he had the feeling that all the blood in his head had suddenly rushed to another part of his body, and suddenly she wasn't the only one with bulging body parts. She was just the one who had them out on obvious display. "I…I learned to deal with them over the years," he whispered as he watched her hike her skirts up. "Tune them out…spinning and deal-making…staying active helps, but laying my head down and closing my eyes only seems to make them grow louder."

"But that means you never rest…" she commented as she drew his mouth back to his for a moment before moving to the floor and kneeling, carefully moving his legs apart so she could fit herself in that space there.

"Spinning is good enough…"

Those were all the words he'd managed to get out before she pulled him to the edge of the little couch and kissed him once more, before she moved to push his jacket off his shoulders and push his shirt apart. He fought back a groan as she moved her lips over his jaw and neck and then at the base of his throat. Bloody hell, it was just kissing. He tried to remind himself of it, but the moment he felt her hands reach lower, to the laces of his breeches.

"I don't believe that…" she whispered as she worked at pulling the knots free. He hadn't felt drunk in years, but he did now. He felt light-headed and breathless, his vision felt cloudy, hazy. It made him want only to close his eyes and just enjoy what he was feeling, what she made him feel. He hadn't had sex in a long time and knew this wasn't it…but it already felt nearly as good. "In fact, I take it as a personal challenge to do what I can to relax you…" she whispered before kissing his neck- "…to ease you…" -she kissed the other side- "…to help you close your eyes…and shut those voices in your head out." She placed another kiss on his throat before she kissed his lips one last time.

"I don't know what could be done…" he managed to whisper. It was a miracle. And with those words, she used her hand to push him away just enough to see her dark eyes.

"I can think of one thing worth a try…" she muttered at the same time he felt the knot on his breeches break loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't freak out! I know you are wondering where we're going with this but trust me when I say this chapter is important in so many ways! As far as what they talk about, we were always going to need a chapter like this just like we needed a chapter for the globe. We needed it so that Rumple could not only share more information about Baelfire but also so that he could give her the information on the dagger. Throughout season two, Rumple makes it clear that Cora knows about it and how to destroy him with it. So we needed to see where that came from. In addition to their talk, I wanted the fact that he's talking about these things to be scarring all on their own. We know going forward this is a man who has issues with trust. When Belle comes along one of their frequent problems is that they don't communicate well. She has her reasons for that and now he has his reasons. It's sort of a bite me once shame on you, bite me twice shame on me, sort of thing. The fact that he's having these conversations with Cora and the fact that she's going to hurt and betray him so badly are going to have repercussions for his future relationships. It means every time Belle says "you can trust me, Rumple" somewhere in the back of his mind a voice is going to be saying "you once thought you could trust Cora too." As far as the physical aspect of this chapter, there is going to be more on that in the next chapter, but I did want to throw this in here because it makes Belle seem less random, in my mind. It's not just that Belle shows up and OMG she must be his true love! He's still a man at least partly. I wanted to show that he is still very capable of emotions like love and caring as well as sexual desire. And Cora...well...she kinda of seemed like the perfect character to bring that out in him.
> 
> Now, just a quick note, I don't post anything that would be rated above T because I just can't bring myself to do it...however, I do possess the unedited versions of this chapter and chapters to come. It's called Banishment, but because these chapters are NC-17 or MA, I won't release them to the public. If you are interested in reading Banishment Part I (which covers all TDOC: Before the Curse in addition to The Dark Curse), send me a PM or leave me a comment and I'll tell you how to get what you need.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. if you are interested in more of what comes after this chapter then I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that just like Moments had Exile, a special place for deleted scenes that I felt were too risque to put into a public fiction, Chronicles will have Banishment. The bad news...it's not going to be out for a while. Like Exile I don't want to release it before all the chapters contained within it are already out, to avoid spoilers. Part 1 of Banishment is going to cover scenes from the previous two fictions as well as this one and there are still at least two more places that contain posts for Banishment that we haven't gotten to yet. When we get there, I'll let you know. In the meantime, read on to find out how this encounter ends! Peace and Happy Reading!


	27. Falling in Love With Love

The last thirty minutes of his life left him more confused than he'd been in a hundred years, and that included the day he'd garnered his ability of foresight. They hadn't had sex, not in the traditional sense, at least, but Cora had tried her hardest to help him to forget about the world and quiet his mind. She'd tried…

He'd failed.

Though their experience, he was certain, would be considered a success to her, she was unable to climb into his head and see the thoughts he'd had throughout it. Her temptations had worked at first, but the moment her hands moved from his hips to his knees, something changed. His mind began to race with new thoughts that had nothing to do with what Cora was doing. Instead, he was suddenly aware of just how close her hands were to his boots-the place the dagger had remained safely hidden for years. He'd never disclosed the location of the dagger to another soul before. But now she knew. And then, instead of focusing on Cora or her mouth or the attraction he felt toward her, the picture his head conjured up was one of her slipping her hand into his boot and pulling free his dagger. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn't get it out of his head. He hadn't been able to let his mind wander, hadn't been able to settle, only finish things quickly and return her to the palace wondering, questioning, if they'd gone too far too fast.

But hiding from Cora, ignoring her completely was never an option, not really. She knew his name now, his true name, and he had made her a promise on the night they'd fetched the fleece that he would teach her how to use her magic to come and go as she pleased. It wouldn't free her entirely, but it would give her some ability to take herself out of the walls of the palace and to a safe place when the need arose. And it did frequently after that night. A quick study from the beginning, she'd mastered the concept easily, and now he was pleased to find her there, standing behind him in his tower on occasion, whenever she had an hour free or an afternoon. She, it seemed, did not have the same concerns that he had about their experimental next steps. She asked for it quite often, surprisingly so, but not with her words, just with her body language. It was in the way she touched him, the way she whispered in his ear, and the way she sometimes put herself between him and the table upon which the fleece he'd been working on rested.

"I'm beginning to think your more interested in that rag than you are me…I might start to get jealous."

"That, my dear, is a grand impossibility," he whispered, pulling her closer. "Why don't we continue with your studies."

And that was all it took to draw him back to her. Though he'd spent time separating the pair of them and walking on eggshells the moment he felt her magic and stood by her side teaching her a trick of the trade, she was intoxicating again. So long as he could keep her at a safe and close distance until he decided what this affair was, and what it could become.

It would have worked in theory. The problem was the "close" part of the "close distance". He didn't want her to become nervous, or know that he was having second thoughts and so he did his best to continue as he had been. And soon enough, after a night of disappearing in one place and reappearing in another, it led them back to that inevitable place: her bedroom.

"Oh, that's such a rush!" she exclaimed, grabbing her head and smiling. "You've been holding out on me all this time! Is that what you feel? Every time you leave me, is that the rush you get?"

"In truth, I hardly notice it anymore," he answered obviously.

"Can't imagine why you wouldn't want to! It's exquisite. It makes my skin feel like it's humming," she explained, moving closer to him. "My truth, dear Rumple, is that I haven't felt like that since the night we got the fleece, since we went to your castle and-"

She froze.

He froze.

The room seemed to freeze, even the fire, as all that was left was the sound of the echoing knock that came from her door. Company.

"Cora? It's me, Henry…are you awake?"

"Just a moment!" she cried out. "I'm not decent!"

But suddenly, her frightened face exploded into a mischievous smile. She gave him a sudden shove that forced him against the wall and kissed his cheek. He always was a sucker for a strong woman. Now more than ever. His skin began to tingle in anticipation, a desperate desire and want to continue kissing her as her fiancé waited outside the door. But a moment later he realized that sensation had less to do with her and more to do with her magic. He felt it push into his own body, and as she moved away from him and glanced down at his hands he realized he was turning invisible. Her own spell...clever girl.

"Henry, dear…" Cora exclaimed, opening her door. She'd thrown a dressing gown over the clothes she'd been wearing out with him. Smart, but he now knew that the next thing he needed to teach her was how to transfigure her own clothes. "It's the middle of the night, is everything okay? Your father, your brothers-"

"All is well," Henry assured her with a smile. "I simply…I thought I heard a noise coming from your room, and I wanted to check you were all right."

There was a moment of silence as she looked at him, then her hand wrapped around the door and opened it wider, revealing, what he would have seen, an empty room except for Cora. He watched as Henry's eyes searched nonetheless until red embarrassment burned in his cheeks.

"It was me that you heard," she explained gently. "I was reading by the fire when a spark jumped out and caught my gown. I may have shrieked and stumbled a bit, putting it out."

He was shocked to find that when she opened her dressing gown a bit, she was wearing the simple gown she'd been wearing before they'd left for the night and sure enough when she picked it up, a small bit of it was burned. It hadn't been a moment ago. It seemed his favorite student had been doing extra homework and studying on her own. He hadn't expected that. He didn't know how he felt about it. And yet her attention to detail…it was stunning.

"Well…if you say you're all right…"

Cora smiled and moved to close the door-

"Only…it's only…I had rather expected you'd be in bed by now," Henry inserted with a wide, innocent smile before she could shut him out. Ordinarily, he would have believed the man was simply snooping, but that smile had him convinced the poor lamb probably was just concerned for her.

"Well, I suppose I should, but…I simply got too caught up in the book! I suppose I lost my head a bit! Oh…and a good thing I did! If you'd have come by and I was in my nightgown…before the wedding! It would have been shameful, Henry!"

Instantly his face fell, all the while Rumpelstiltskin fought to contain his laughter. She was playing on the perception that brides were as innocent as dear Henry, if he knew what had occurred between the pair of them not long ago, that vision in the poor lad's head would fade. In fact, it might actually kill him.

"Oh, dear! I hadn't thought-"

"It's okay, my love, it's okay!" she cooed, stepping forward and grabbing his hand. "We both got lucky tonight, and no harm was done! But…I suppose we'd best part ways before a servant comes along and assumes something that isn't true."

"Yes," Henry nodded with a sigh of relief. "Of course, you're right…"

He had to laugh, the poor prince leaned in for a moment as if contemplating whether or not he wanted to kiss her, but when Cora didn't move from her place, he thought better of it. Instead, he took another look around the room as if searching for someone one last time that chilled his bones. His innocent eyes were replaced with suspicion and something more. It was knowing. He may have come up here for the reasons he stated, he may even have believed her story about the dress, but that look hinted that he knew far more about what was going on than Cora might have known. And that could be bad for her health…bad for her neck.

"I bid you good-night, Cora," Henry stated, offering a little bow before taking one last glance and moving down the hall.

The very moment he was gone and Cora had closed the door, he felt the familiar tingling on his skin that told him the spell she'd cast was reversing. And sure enough, when he looked down at his hands, they appeared again. But Cora didn't look at him, didn't seem worried or interested in his reappearance, she stared instead into the lit fireplace, with her hands on her hips, her skin flushed as her chest heaved. She was angry.

"Spineless, rigid, oaf!" she cried out.

All true words, but not the ones she should be concerned with.

"I think the words you are searching for are perceptive, persistent bugger," he added in a low tone so as not to let anyone in the castle hear his voice. Cora finally turned back to him with curiosity for his choice of words when she knew that he didn't think that much of Henry himself. As far as Cora was concerned, those words were raving reviews of the man. "He was looking for something," he explained, stepping up to her so that he could grab her hand and kiss the back of it. "It is possible that we have not been as discreet as we thought we had, my dear."

"Henry?!" she blanched! "No. He's too...he's too naïve to think such thoughts. He's too…good."

"But his father's not."

"His father!" she roared, pulling her hand free from his own and sitting down upon the chair in a huff. "I'll tell you what I'd like to do with his father! I'd like to…" Her words stopped there, but he could tell her thoughts had not. There was something working in her mind, something very plainly "not good". And he knew Cora well enough to know that if he simply sat in the chair opposite her for long enough, eventually she'd divulge.

"I read something the other day, in one of those books you gave me…something I saw you do with that puppet you brought here…it was something about taking hearts from the body."

"Ah…tis a helpful magical tool for those who can manage it."

"Who can manage it?"

"Usually only the wicked," he responded honestly. "It's high-level magic that's not to be fooled with, only those of blackened hearts try. It takes a lot of power to do it or else a powerful spell to give a non-magical being the ability to do it."

Her eyes had gone dark again as she sat forward in her chair with interest. "And once you have that heart?" she questioned in a seductive tone that had him moving forward in his own seat, drawn to her easily.

"The world is yours…so to speak," he answered. "You are free to command the individual to do as you please. Squeeze hard enough, and pain is beyond endurance…or so I've been told." It had never happened to him. It never would. After he'd first learned the truth about hearts, he'd cast a spell over his own that prevented most souls from taking it from him. He could remove it, and he imagined that a very select few who were more powerful than the Dark One could take it as well, but anyone who reached into his chest with the intention of pulling it free without his consent would find themselves stumped and that was the way he wanted it.

"But, you see…" Cora muttered, reaching out to trace a glittering pattern on the back of his hand, "I'm more interested in what happens if you squeeze a little too hard, Darling."

He smiled. Of course, she was. And suddenly every questioning thought he'd had before coming here faded from his mind. He'd worried about her trying to take the dagger. But she hadn't, had she? She'd had the perfect opportunity when she was on her knees, and she hadn't made a single move for it. They were one and the same. It was evident in the way that she asked the exact same questions he would have asked.

"Death," he answered. "Obviously."

"Obviously…" she chanted as she turned her gaze back to the closed door, her dark mind plotting all the while.

"Now, now…I know that look, dearie!" he piqued, drawing her attention back to him. As much as the thought of teaching her how to draw out hearts and break them in her fist enticed him, there was more to it than the magic she'd obviously been practicing on her own. This was a form of magic that needed to be handled delicately, or she'd soon be caught and discovered, and then her plans for a royal wedding would be gone. "Should you get the urge to practice, you should know there are often poor results if you are not in the right frame of mind. A King would be a dreadful person to take the first shot with, especially for someone who is still mastering memory manipulation."

She sighed. He'd brought that up for the very reason that he knew she'd been working on that little trick but with little results. Minds were difficult things to toy with. Interestingly enough, once a heart was captured, memory could be very easily manipulated, but if she went around trying to take the King's heart and failed, without being able to alter those memories, the results could be a disaster.

"A servant then…" she pressed.

He shook his head. She was eager, but she still had much to learn, and she wasn't hearing him now. Before she could learn this, she needed another skill!

"Master the memories first, or practice on animals. You can't risk having the servant girl running off to tell the King what you're doing, especially if he's suspicious already."

"But once I have her heart, I can simply order her to forget or to not tell. Unless I misunderstand."

"You do not, but…that's only if you are successful the first time around, and people rarely are!" Restless demanding little thing. He had the feeling he'd be teaching her this skill before too long after this discussion. "And even if you are successful…holding a heart hostage can lead to nasty side effects that could make it obvious what has happened, and the King will know right where to look."

"Side effects?"

"Withdraw, unusual behavior, lack of emotions-"

"From me?!"

"For your victim, of course!" He rose then and offered his hand to her. "You'll want to approach this bit of magic cautiously."

After a pause, she put her hand back into his own and stood before him so they were nose to nose. Her hands moved up over his chest while his own felt the now familiar curves of her waist. He had the urge to lean forward and kiss her. Was this still bloodlust? Sometimes he wondered if what he felt was more.

"I'm sure you can help me," she whispered as she moved closer so that he could feel her breath upon his lips, and her nose gently rubbed over his own. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensations. Her mouth was so close he could already feel the kiss before it stared.

"We can start tomorrow," he agreed. It wasn't much of a deal for him, but if this was the only way to get her to practice safely, it was agreeable. But as he moved forward to seal it with a kiss, he suddenly found her head moving farther away. When he finally opened his eyes, the look in her own was something like he'd never seen before. It was deep and penetrating. It was sad and happy all at once.

"I'd give you my heart if I could," she muttered

Warmth spread through him had a rapid rate. His heartbeat again and his breath held, and suddenly he wasn't sure why exactly he'd wanted to be distant from her. She'd had every opportunity to take the dagger and hadn't taken it. Now she was promising something like that…why had he ever been worried. He had the sudden revelation that this affair had gone much farther than just an affair of the mind. It was quickly becoming an affair of the heart.

"I might just be tempted to take it," he breathed. "I do believe I'm beginning to love you, Cora."

She smiled before moving close to her again. "I do believe I'm beginning to love you too, Rumpelstiltskin."

For the first time in his long life, he wanted time to stop. He wanted it to stand still for just a little while longer so he could cherish what had been said and how because he had never heard words like that from another woman. They put Milah's lies to shame. They made Granny's stubbornness and spirit seem unappealing. And all the women at taverns and pubs, those who were maids and those who had ever looked at him on the street with lust in their heart for the power that he possessed, they were suddenly child's play next to what he felt when Cora said those words. He almost wanted to resurrect Milah just to force her to listen to them, to see what he was really capable of. Just to make her watch this…

He loved the way they kissed. He loved the way they groped and stretched and reached for each other as though they were both afraid the other might disappear. He liked how her lips tasted when he'd kissed them too much and how one kiss could easily become two or three or even-

"Stay!" she demanded suddenly. "Stay here with me tonight! Just this once…"

The words of "of course" were there in his mouth, but when he opened his mouth, they did not come. He'd wanted this. Just the other night, in fact! But now that it was here, staring him in the face, offering this invitation. His heart didn't leap the way it had before. He was still very aware of the dagger in his boot, of how at risk it would be if he left it alone and turned his back at the wrong time.

This was, after all an affair of the heart, but whether it was of the heart or the body or the mind an affair was an affair. He was falling in love with her, that was true. But what was he to do about the love he felt for her? And if he loved her…could he share her with Henry? In any way? He was falling in love…but if the night before had been too far too soon, staying the night most certainly was as well.

So he unwound himself from her and instead gave her a sinister smile as he repeated nearly what she had the other night.

"What kind of monster do you think I am?"

And then he disappeared, for both their sakes, and spent the night wondering if at any moment she loved him enough to appear before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cora hurt Rumple. She hurt him enough to cause repercussions throughout the rest of his life. You don't get hurt the way he got hurt unless you care for someone deeply. A simple affair doesn't cause that kind of hurt. Someone you are pretty sure you are falling in love with...that causes that kind of hurt. So in my mind, we were always bound to have Cora and Rumple wind up in this place because otherwise, it wouldn't have hurt as much.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! You are all so kind you have me blushing! This is the last of the surprise chapters with Cora. From here there are four more chapters in this section. The other three you've seen already, nothing shocking, but the final chapter...I can't wait for that chapter! Peace and Happy Reading!


	28. Abrupt Decisions

He was finally comfortable enough to bring himself to a conclusion: the Golden Fleece was unremarkable.

It had magic in it, that much he could feel, but after several experiments, the magic had yet to truly reveal itself. The secrets of the fleece it seemed were destined to remain a secret, for he was certainly not about to give it up and let another witch or wizard discover it in his stead. It had been worth a try, but the consolation prize was that it made a lovely decoration with the rest of his collection in the Great Hall! That, and of course, what had transpired between he and Cora the night they'd retrieved it. For that reason alone, he wasn't upset about abandoning work on it.

The truth was that the closer he got to Cora, the more he knew and understood that the prophecy he'd heard was going to come to pass. It would be her daughter, Regina Mills, who cast the curse that would take him to his son. He didn't need to search for beans or fleeces or even hammers that could transport to other realms! He only needed Cora. Only needed the baby that she would one day have. Perhaps one day very soon. Months had passed since they'd first met and begun their little affair. In that time, not only had she progressed with her magic, regularly and expertly altering memories, stealing hearts, making potions, solving problems, moving and pushing energy to her will…but she'd also progressed with Prince Henry as well.

Their wedding day loomed, and therefore so did their wedding night. And if he was honest with himself, of course he felt jealousy over such a thing. But she'd seemed to sense it, seemed to know that he was beginning to rage at the very idea of it. Why had he turned her down all those nights ago? It was a stupid thing to do, if he didn't perhaps he wouldn't feel this growing urge to step in front of her every time he saw the pair of them together, to trip that prince, to send him flying across the room, to snap his brittle neck!

It would be nothing, she'd assured him, time and time again with not the least bit of embarrassment or trepidation for that night. He could remember being so nervous he could barely stand when he'd first gone to bed with Milah, so nervous when he'd first propositioned Cora, but she seemed oddly cool and calm about the entire thing. Perhaps that was a sign that it was as she said.

"It's nothing," she repeated when he expressed his concern. "It's just a series of physical motions; it'll mean nothing, Rumple! It's not like when we're together, my darling."

Indeed. Admittedly, they had not been together in that way. They hadn't had sex, not yet. They hadn't gone any farther than what had happened that day at his castle and a proposition from one to the other that had never been fulfilled. Some of that was due in part to her upcoming nuptials. But the more time he spent with her, the more he realized it was only a matter of time until the moment truly was right, and they weren't able to resist one another anymore, and he no longer cared that she would be marrying the Prince. There were times, even now, that he looked at her and he burned with a need to be closer than he was. Times like now.

He'd popped in, secretly, at first, just to check that she was alone, then openly watched her as she stared at herself in the mirror. She was dressed in a wedding dress. Her wedding dress. The dress she would wear tomorrow to make promises she would never keep to Henry.

"I'm giving him my hand, love, not my heart," she'd insisted just the other night with frustration. She'd begged him to stay the night with her. She'd gotten on her knees before him again, to tempt him further, he assumed. But instead of the voices quieting, it was his own voice that swam with questions and emotions that forced him to urge her to her feet. He hadn't been able to prepare himself for what she wanted, even with magic. His mind was too busy.

In part, that was why he'd come so early today, to fix things and apologize for what had happened yesterday when he'd left abruptly. But now that he saw her there in that dress, there was something that scratched just beneath his skin. Something he did not like. On the one hand it was something that gave him a secret gleeful thrill to know that marriage might make her a princess but it would never make Cora Henry's Great Love. And yet…jealousy could still reign supreme if he let it. So the answer was simple. He wouldn't let it.

"Enjoying the view as much as I am?" he teased, letting her jump at his voice before swooping her in and pressing her close for a frantic kiss. Until she pushed him away.

"How dare you?!" she stated with feigned shock and anger. "I'm a married woman."

"Not yet. Wedding's tomorrow!" he corrected before kissing her again.

"Hm. Well, then it's all right," she conceded before giving in and kissing him again.

"Love the dress!" he commented before pulling away. He had too. She had a full day ahead of her, and he was certain that she'd have chambermaids and servants coming to check on her and move her to the next event any moment now. But if they kept this up, they'd find their future Princess in a very, very precarious position as he fought to claim what he knew Henry would tomorrow night.

"Royal brides have to be snow white."

He let out an involuntary giggle at that comment.

"When you see the future, there is irony everywhere," he pronounced before taking a seat opposite that mirror.

"You know, I thought I wanted this," she muttered after a pause. "White and bright, all the admiration…but then I look at it…fifth in line to be Queen. That won't happen without an awful lot of bloodshed. And what you give me…"

He sat forward and reached for her hands to get her to stop. There was a feeling, something indescribable, in the pit of his stomach. He knew what the Prophecy stated, he knew what he needed to find Bae, but he also had the feeling that he knew what she was leading up to, and he wanted that too. He understood what the future offered. She did not.

"I can give you nothing but darkness…and isolation," he clarified.

"And love?" Cora questioned.

His tongue wouldn't work. He wasn't sure what to say. He was almost certain she was going to say what he thought she was, but could he allow her to? Oh, his heart was pounding as he stared up at her, his mouth was dry, and somehow he just couldn't bring himself to lie.

"Yeah," he heard himself confirm, "And love."

Cora leaned in closer. "I want that."

And so did he. Oh, how was this possible? He'd never hoped to feel anything like what he felt now for Cora, not since the woman from his village had turned him down years ago! But he felt something for Cora that was so much stronger than anything he'd ever felt for her. Was it love? Was this what the love of a man and a woman felt like? He was old, but he'd never really known it before to tell. He was over a hundred years old but shamefully naïve about the subject. Yet he knew, in his heart of hearts, that he didn't want her to go with Henry tomorrow night. He wanted her to come with him…he wanted her to come with him right now! He wanted to take her home to his bed to correct his previous behavior. And he wanted to discover that she was the one! She was the Cora he'd seen his vision! But could she also be that brown-haired woman he'd seen in the bed beside him in that same vision. Those shoulders were pinker, but…the tone of flesh could change over time. And if this was real, maybe this was what it was about, maybe changing and living a life with someone was about change! Perhaps visions could change, perhaps the future could change! What did it matter if Cora's firstborn child was Prince Henry's or…his own?

He could think of one reason that might matter, but it had nothing to do with Cora or the child, and everything to do with a stupid choice he'd made when he was weak and scared. But that particular deal had one very obvious, very easy loophole to exploit if time hadn't taken care of it for him to begin with. And as for Cora…

"What if I, uh…" he rose from his seat and paced around her. He caught a flash of himself and Cora in her white dress in the mirror and had to look away just to focus. "What if I, uh…amended, our contract? Instead of you owing me some random firstborn child," he pronounced while moving his arms wildly and dramatically as he'd never had to do with Cora before, "…you owe me my child?"

It was a show of just how nervous he was, just how much he wanted her to say yes to what he was offering.

"I can make that deal."

"As can I." His heart skipped a beat and felt lighter as they moved toward one another. Love. Was this the legendary pull of it?

"Rumple…can we really do this?" she asked. "Can we really have this?"

He understood her confusion. He understood it so much better than she may ever know because he felt that same sense of unfairness in the world that she must. Two creatures like them, united in their love of bloodlust, so skilled in Dark Magic, her running around behind her fiancé's back, he committing so many murders he couldn't even remember them all. How could they have this happiness? How could they have it so close and ripe for the taking?

"If you truly wish it."

He wanted so bad, more than anything to see her lean forward and insist that it was what she wanted, more than anything! But instead he saw a flicker of uncertainty pass over her eyes. Not disinterest, just…a complication.

"There is one-"

"What?" he demanded desperately. If he could fix what had happened in his past, before she married, before she even found out about it, then they could solve whatever was edging out her decision. He was certain about whatever her uncertainty was. He just needed to know it.

"It's the King," she confessed as that darkness clouded her eyes again. "He humiliated me. He made me feel the way you've shown me I never have to feel. I want to kill him," she stated just as though she'd stated she wanted a goldfish from the fair. "I want to show him his heart before I do it, so he can see it and know what I'm doing as I crush it."

"And that is why I love you." Oh, this was why they worked so well. Her bloodlust, her desire for revenge and justice, was nearly as unquenchable as his own! And that was why he had every confidence that they could make this work. Truly. The future wasn't set in stone. It could change!

Cora moved closer, took her hand and laid it just over his heart where he wondered if she could feel it straining against his skin to touch her own, to have her skin pressed against his, to have her, without that dress, in his bed instead of the Prince's. He wondered what that bloodlust would look like when she was in her arms then. Would she carry it to bed with her and be just as fierce? Gods, he hoped so!

"Show me!" she demanded. Show her how he loved her? Easily. But not here. Not now, not when there was so much to be done before they could pull this off. But when they succeeded, and they were finally at his castle, together, when his daughter finally helped him get back to his son, it was going to be an impressive feat beyond anything any seer could have seen. And when they were alone together tonight…it was going to make anything Milah had with that pirate of hers look like child's play. He only prayed that with even his own inexperience, he might be a worthy teacher.

"I will show you everything," he promised.

"Then I'll do it tonight."

Tonight.

Tonight!

So much to do and yet…it was the perfect amount of time!

"Let's seal that promise," he insisted before capturing her mouth once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There should be nothing overly shocking about this chapter except maybe the fact that we've finally arrived here. I'm sorry the in between time wasn't as long as it might have been in another fiction but I knew that this would be long enough without it. I'm hopeful that you've got the idea of what has been going on all this time with Rumple and Cora. You know where we're at now, so you also know what's coming. Nothing fun for our boy, but it'll have a pretty lasting impact.
> 
> RolfB thank you, thank you, thank you for your comments on the last chapter. I was so pleased to receive them and know that so far everything is good! Let's continue, shall we? Peace and Happy Reading!


	29. Tying Off Loose Ends

Sealed with a kiss. There was no better way than to seal a deal of this nature. It simply had to be. But this time, with that promise, he did feel an urge to go further, to do more than just kiss. Though some old gentlemanly part of him wanted to wait, his whole body also burned with the recognition of how wonderful it would be to fall into the King's bed with her on the very day before she would have-

"Mistress Cora! Mistress!" The pounds on the door made her pull away from him and look nervously in that direction. In all fairness, for all of one second, it had sounded as though they'd be content to break down the door. "Did you get the dress on yet? We need to make our alterations!" a woman squealed.

"I need just a minute more to myself!" Cora called. "It's…emotional!"

But she didn't look at the door as she'd said that last bit, she'd looked back at him, wrapped her arms around his neck once more and kissed him again. However, unlike last time, the knowledge that her servants were just behind the door was enough to keep him from losing himself completely, and after only two kisses, he managed to push her away. It would be wonderful to go on as he'd envisioned, but they had much to do if they were going to keep this little plan of theirs working smoothly! They would have one chance at getting this perfectly right. One misstep, especially on his part, and things could go very wrong for him indeed.

"I'll meet you tonight, by the apple tree at the Southern edge of the property. Midnight!"

Cora nodded. "I'll count the hours until I'm free of them!"

She leaned in closer for another kiss, but he had to disappear before he let their lips touch again. He was certain that with just the slightest of touches, he might be tempted to take her with him now, and that wouldn't do. Not only would it be terribly unsatisfying to her, but it would be a terrible mistake on his part.

Back in his Tower again, his mind spun and reeled around. If not for the fact that he hadn't slept in about a century he probably would have figured that he had dreamed up what happened. But even knowing he didn't sleep still had him questioning it. Had he really just proposed to Cora?!

That was it, wasn't it. A proposal! He'd promised to change the contract, amend it to their own child, and so magically he could feel he was already bound to that arrangement but…a child! And Cora!

All his life, he'd wanted to be a parent, he'd wanted to be a father. It was the reason that all the happiest moments of his life revolved around Baelfire. The first time he'd held him, the first time he'd walked, teaching him how to spin, holding him and knowing everything was going to be okay the first time after Milah had gone…

But somehow, he never figured he'd get another opportunity to father another child, not as he was now, with this curse! And Cora…

Wasn't it an odd thing, that though he'd always wanted to be a father, being a husband had never really been part of his plans. Yes, he'd fallen hard under Milah's spell at one point, but he'd never been the one to propose. She had orchestrated their marriage, making the proposal no more than a moment of begging for help, which he would have completely regretted in the end if not for his son. He'd always wanted children. But now, with Cora…it was a proposal. He hadn't said the right words but somehow he knew they'd both understood it was a marriage proposal and in coming with him tonight, even if they never really married, she was vowing to live here in his castle with him, to study magic, to deliver a child, a daughter who would help to find her brother. It was overwhelming; it was remarkable and happy! So, so happy! He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this light! And nervous. And excited. And half a dozen other emotions that he couldn't identify!

But then…reality sank in. Sitting there on that couch reveling in what had just happened was one thing, but anticipating a future with her, a child…that led him to something else entirely. They'd been close to one another for weeks now, tension growing and building, and he was certain that if he brought her back here tonight, the actions that followed in his bedroom would be anything but innocent. It wasn't a problem for him, nor Cora he was sure, but the fact that at any time she could become pregnant…that was his concern…it was a problem that he had to rectify. Now that the deal had been sealed and their plan set, he needed that child more than anything. Fortunately, next to what she intended to do, his job was easy. Or at least he believed it was to be considerably easy. Everything about the deal he'd made with Cora worked in their favor with one little misstep he hadn't considered until now. What would be the firstborn of Cora would be his second born, and nearly a century ago, he had sold his second-born to save his firstborn with the confidence that he would simply never have a second born to give. That would have been one way around that particular contract, but there was always more than one way to win and he had figured this loophole out in less time than it had taken him to blink when he'd first suggested he change the contract with Cora. He couldn't owe a debt to a dead man.

Of course, it had been about a century since he'd made that deal, the average man might believe that the Healer he'd promised his daughter to was dead, but he'd long suspected the Healer was more than he'd seemed. A practice of magic like that was powerful indeed and now that he had this knowledge inside of him he knew that the Atlantis the Healer had claimed to be from was older than the Dark One Curse itself. This either meant that all the books in all the realm had gotten the fate of Atlantis wrong, or…that Healer had looked awfully good for his age when he first met him. He was willing to bet it was the second, but finding out was easy enough.

As much as he wanted to sit there and reflect upon what had happened and what could happen tonight, he forced himself to get up and go to the cauldron of water that he kept burning over the fire. He tossed in a few special herbs and then a potion that would summon up images, and finally he took the dagger from his boot, pressed the tip into his thumb, and dropped his blood into the boiling pot. It was a spell he'd only used a couple of times in his life, easy as it was, he didn't have much use for it as he tended to remember all his deals. But this potion was not to recall deals, it was to recall outstanding debts, deals he'd made that were unfulfilled, both those that he was the collector and those he was indebted to. It showed the most recent deals first; Cora's face came to the pot first, of course. The child not yet conceived or claimed. She was in her room, dressed in a regular gown again, speaking with some servants. He wished he could hear what she was talking about, he wished he knew what she was thinking about but-

"Later," he muttered. There would be time for all of that and more later. And with a flick of his wrist, the image changed. He saw Theseus sitting on a hillside with Mary, he saw a couple of men that who he suspected he'd be collecting on any day now, a few more men and women who simply owed him favors for simple spells, he never liked to give anything away for nothing, and-

"There you are…"

He saw the Healer. There plain as day in a little hut. He was still alive. His debt to him outstanding. And now that he knew he was alive, that was easy enough to fix.

He waited until it grew dark, until he'd have the element of surprise on his side. He gave himself enough time to let his anger grow, to forget about who the Healer was, about what he'd done for Baelfire, about how he had spared him…instead he chose to remember only how the Healer was demanding this new child. He'd taken terrible advantage of a man without a choice, and that was all he needed to spark his rage.

When the time finally came, all it required of him was a great breath, for him to conjure an image of the man as he remembered him, and then he disappeared.

When he opened his eyes, he smirked. Well…wasn't that lovely. He found himself standing outside a little house, a house in a world that he recognized. Though he knew it hadn't stood there forever, though the trees and brush had grown up around him since he'd been gone, he recognized it as the house he'd once been to in his old home, his former village. It was quieter now, it had the feel of a place that was abandoned, and he had heard that since he'd left, the population had declined as the fish had left, and the sea began to recede with time. Apparently, the Healer hadn't gotten the memo. Ah well, what problem was that to him? What problem was it to the Healer in a few minutes?

He did love to make an entrance, but that was difficult to do when he had no idea where the individual was and couldn't see through walls. Fortunately, there was an easy way to remedy that.

He knocked on the door. Inside he heard footsteps coming closer and now that he was sure of where his attention was he let himself disappear and reappear inside the home just in time to see a fat man open the doors and look out to find nothing there. Perfectly executed, he wondered if Cora's tasks would come this easy to her.

"Peekaboo!" he exclaimed so that Fendrake quickly turned around to face him. Now that was remarkable. He hadn't aged a day. Much like this little hut he had, it looked nearly identical to what he'd seen a hundred years ago and probably would have for another hundred…if not for the way he'd taken advantage of a sick little boy! "Some places never change, even after all these years. Wouldn't hurt to dust the chickens."

"I know who you are, Dark One," he replied in that tone that he'd had all those years ago. Even his voice had stayed the same.

"Well, I imagine you do!" he exclaimed happy to be playing along now that he was the one who finally had the upper hand where magic was concerned.

"You weren't like this before."

"That's right!" he cried, remembering all too well. "I was a mortal man then, and a moral one. A man in a desperate situation, and you took advantage, and I admire that a great deal. Full points. But I don't like carrying debt," he explained, drawing closer to him.

Fendrake only smiled. The calmness he'd been so grateful for all those years ago was suddenly less than admirable, but he could admit that it wasn't the worst thing. There were plenty of other people in the world he'd be pleased to make scream in his place.

"Unfortunately, Dark One, the contract is binding. Even if I wanted to change it, I couldn't. You owe me."

He let out a great laugh at his expense. It really would have paid the man to have at least a little bit of fear. Really, perhaps then, he might be able to see what he had in mind and try to defend himself. He'd never gone toe to toe with an Atlantean Healer before and imagined that after tonight he might never get the opportunity again. He could point it out, therefore drawing this encounter out, but…Cora was waiting.

"I owe you! That's right, but...I can't owe a debt to a dead man."

Before Fendrake could say anything, he reached out and plunged his hand into his chest, ripping his heart free from his body and holding it out for him to see just as he imagined Cora doing with King. They truly were perfect for each other. And with that, why waste time.

"Now, I don't like debts. But I do love a loophole…"

With the tightening of his fingers, the heart dissolved into dust in the palm of his hand, and the Healer, the one being that threatened his happiness with Cora, gave out one final sob before he fell to the floor dead.

"I do hate loose ends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that takes care of the Atlantean Healer and leaves us with the set up for 5B pretty much complete, at least where Rumple is concerned. 3A and 5B were the easiest set ups in this fiction, since most of their happens in the two previous fictions. Every other season or half season needs a number of different chapters to get everything where it needs to be but these two pretty much needed one chapter each. It was nice. I wish they all could have been like this. After this chapter, we're on to the last two chapters in Cora's section, which obviously set up a good chunk of season 2 for Rumple as well as Regina!
> 
> Thank you, as always, for your kind, kind comments RolfB. I'm so happy everyone likes this fiction and how it's been composed! After taking well over a year to write it, you can imagine just how thrilled I am to know that it's well-received! Peace and Happy Reading!


	30. Fate Steps In

It was well past midnight. Something must have been wrong. He knew it was wrong. He felt it in his bones.

Cora wasn't exactly a perfectly prompt individual; a few minutes late was normal for her, but not this late. He paced as his mind raced, thinking up the most dreadful of scenarios while he waited with nothing else to do. Every sense he had was on high alert, he heard every bug, every cricket, every owl around him. He felt charged. Waiting for a potential ambush, an explanation, or even for her just to show up breathless and apologize for being late. He wasn't sure what to do.

Perhaps he'd been wrong to agree to let her kill the King without him, unsupervised. The taking of a heart was a delicate thing, and she'd only been doing it for a week or so now while practicing on servants, not Kings. Different people held onto their hearts in different ways, and it wouldn't be an anomaly for a royal king to strike a deal with someone to cast a spell to protect their heart, he'd made a few of those deals himself in his time.

And then there was the fact that she intended to kill the king. She'd never killed before, not to his knowledge. When they stole the hearts they always returned them with altered memories. To take a heart was different than to crush it. She could do it, she had the desire and the hate for it, as he did, but to actually do it for the first time...that could be nervewracking.

It was late. The King had servants in and out of his chamber at all hours of the day and night. If he was dead the castle, these grounds he walked on, should have been in hysterics by now; bells tolling, women wailing, men fighting over a crown. It should have been a perfect time for Cora to simply slip away in all the commotion, never to be seen again…but there was none of that. Unlike himself, the grounds around him were calm. Peaceful even!

So then what was taking so long? What was she waiting for? Was she attempting to hide the body? He certainly hoped not. They hadn't exactly discussed her plan for long before he'd left her to it, but he figured she was smart enough to know to leave the body where it was. Had she gone into the King's bedchamber and woken him from sleep to keep the guards from discovering his death until morning? That would have been the wisest course of action. And Cora was smart. Perhaps that was what had happened…but then why wasn't she here yet?

His mind began to wander into darker places, terrible, frightening scenarios he'd rather not imagine but forced himself to all the same. Thanks to her public display of turning straw into gold, the entire Kingdom knew that Cora had magic. If things hadn't gone as planned, if she hadn't been able to take the King's heart or alter his memories, he'd have called the guard on her immediately. She was magic, but hers was steeped in revenge and anger, if she was fearful as she was dragged away she might not have been able to access it and if King Xavier was one of those Kings who possessed a dungeon capable of holding one who had magic…

She would need to be rescued. He'd need to arrange for her release! But how! He wouldn't have magic in a place like that either, at least not all his magic! It would always be effected somehow. How was he to save her if he couldn't use magic! It would be like trying to rescue Milah all over again! His limp might even come back and-

Finally, from behind him, he heard footsteps, and from out of the darkness a figure suddenly appeared, it was a silhouette he recognized right away and he allowed himself to sigh in relief. There now. It was nothing. He'd simply let his mind wander away from him.

He smiled as she walked toward him, the cloak he'd once crafted for her over her shoulders and a hope chest they'd so often practiced putting hearts into held in her arms. A servant's heart, perhaps, something she wanted to take with her? Unless…she hadn't kept the King's heart with her, had she? What on earth was she planning if she'd kept him alive? He'd often heard of couples eloping in the middle of the night, and though he wouldn't exactly term this as that, he had to admit that it felt an awful lot like they were. They were leaving one life in exchange for another, and he couldn't wait not to look back. So then, what was she holding onto?

"I was starting to grow concerned," he commented as she stepped forward.

"Well, here I am," she shrugged before he reached forward to embrace her. The kiss he gave nearly stopped his own heart as he pulled away simply for that reason alone. It was a kiss he had given to her.

And nothing more.

He was excited, he had to admit that, but at the same time…she'd never been a passive lover before. She was nearly as aggressive as he could be even more so. She like to grope, to embrace, to swallow him even as he threatened to do the same to her! To simply allow him to kiss her…it wasn't Cora.

"Something's not right," he pointed out, summoning his magic, preparing for an attack, for a glamor to be revealed or the Blue Fairy to turn up and confess to tricking him in some way. But Cora only nodded.

"Yes. You're correct," she stated. But nothing happened. There was no flare of magic, no reveal. There was no motion from her at all. Was she upset, perhaps? Had she not gotten what she wanted? There were ways to fix that!

"Well, what happened?" he goaded. "Couldn't you take the King's heart?"

"No, I was able to do it," she corrected. "I chose not to."

She chose not to…she chose it? But it was…it was nothing like Cora. Mercy from her? It simply didn't exist in her, he was sure of it. He was positive.

"Ah…" he was utterly confused and at a loss for words as he felt that great thing in his chest, the monster that had grown significantly since she'd come into his life, begin to fade. He had a bad feeling, and it just so happened that bad feeling had the voice of the Seer, reminding him in his head of a prophecy. _"Firstborn of Princess Cora to cast the curse to end all curses…"_

Princess Cora…fate could be rewritten, and just one pesky detail could be changed…couldn't it?!

She stepped forward and moved the back of her hand over his cheek as she stared into his eyes with…nothing! There was nothing there. No passion, no love, no lust, no interest. Nothing.

"I'm sorry, my dear Rumple. I'm not going with you. You see, I have a wedding to go to…my own."

Her wedding. To Prince Henry.

His heart sank as he pulled away from her with new suspicion. "Whose heart is in the box?" he demanded, though he had a terrible feeling that he knew exactly whose heart it was. The symptoms were there in her eyes.

"Don't make this harder-"

"You lied to me!" he snarled as he looked back into her emotionless stare. This…this felt like it could kill him, blacken his heart far more than any sin of Dark Magic, and on her face, there was nothing! It was apparent, and he wanted to hear her say it! He wanted to hear her tell him that she was choosing this life! This miserable, spotless, silly piece of oppressive perfection over what he'd given her these long months. He wanted to hear her tell him what he'd done to her heart to make this life tolerable.

"Whose heart?"

"Mine," she finally admitted.

He knew it was impossible, but this was as close as he'd ever come to feeling feint since he'd become the Dark One. The steps he took to get away from her weren't enough, and he suddenly had the sensation of being doused in cold water! He'd never experienced the sensation of having his heart pulled from his chest and crushed, but he imagined it felt a lot like this! Oh, he'd…he'd been a fool! A terrible fool to ever think…to ever hope that she…that anyone…could ever…

"I had to," she growled in excuse. "You told me not to let anything stop me until they're on their knees. My heart was stopping me."

Her heart…lies! All lies! Like Milah and the Blue Fairy and even that common girl from his village! It was all a lie! Her heart wasn't stopping her! If she'd truly loved him as she'd said she had, then it should have helped her! No, for this to happen…it was the crown she wanted, power and magic just like any common person, and he'd played right into her hands! Helping her get it! Helping her to guide this pain he felt now into his flesh, his own heart! It was a dagger all it's own. No! She spoke nothing of the truth. Only lies! And now…

His boiling anger began to simmer into something worse than anger, something far more concentrated.

He'd show her! He'd show her exactly what the stroke of her pen had bought her for her deceit! He'd forget everything they'd shared, every false lie, every timed kiss, every unimportant encounter. He'd make sure she remembered it for her entire life, every time she looked at her children and saw one missing!

"You never loved me. Never. You're not getting away with this!" he shouted. "We had a contract! I'll take your baby!"

"You changed the contract, Rumple," she reminded him calmly, heartlessly. "You only get your own child. And any baby I have…it won't be yours."

He had the distinct feeling like he'd been slapped in the face though the wound didn't feel like that of a handprint. Clever girl. He'd thought of those words a dozen times a day since he'd met her, he'd reveled in them, been utterly attracted to them but now he was so angry he felt tears gather in his eyes. There were tears in her eyes, but they never made it to the heart of her, to the places that he needed to see them. And worse…was that a smirk he'd seen? For one small tiny flash of a second?

She'd been plotting this. She'd been planning for this to happen all along! Ever since he'd named the price to spare her in that tower, she'd kept him close, had him teach her music, told him that she loved him all so that on the day she convinced him to alter the agreement he'd think nothing of it. She'd walk away with her magic and her child and now a royal title to boot. He'd been tricked, deceived in the worst way! And she…

He'd never met a more clever and heartless bitch in all his life…and that included Milah.

He lunged for her, flew at her propelled by a rage that lit up the night, and made the forest seemed bathed in blood. He'd kissed that neck only the day before, but now he had the urge to feel it snap beneath his palms!

But before he could touch her, she vanished in a cloud of red magic. He felt it flare up behind him before he heard her.

"Please, don't make this any harder than it has to be, Darling. You taught me well!"

"Don't do that!" he screamed. "Don't call me that!"

"I'm sorry!" she cried as she moved out of his grasp again so that all he held between his fingers was smoke. "You taught me too well!"

This time when she vanished, she didn't reappear. There was no flash of familiar magic, no heartbeat hiding in the trees. Only light from the castle that he was certain she'd retreated to like the undeniable coward she was.

Oh, she'd pay! He'd wait. He'd wait until she was asleep, until she felt comfortable and safe, and then he would steal her heart from that chest and crush it as she'd crushed his! If she'd protected it he'd cut her throat and bathe her husband in her blood and take the child from her belly…

The child…the baby!

He ground his teeth together so hard he felt his jaw crack before he turned around and set a tree on fire and let out a loud agonizing scream!

The baby! He was ready, oh so ready to go after Cora, to kill her if not today then tomorrow or the day after! But he couldn't. The miserable witch had a shield around her, and it was his own son! He longed to see Baelfire more than anything else in this world, far more than he longed to kill Cora, and the truth was that now, more than ever, she was destined to become a Princess and have the child, the daughter who would get him back to Bae! If he killed Cora now, then he would be effectively murdering any chance he ever had of seeing Baelfire again by taking the child from himself!

"There's more than one way around a deal, Dearie!" he heard himself growl as he looked up at the lights of the castle. There were voices in the distance, drawn by the flames of the tree he'd lit up and their desire to put the blaze out.

He had to go. He had to leave this place. He had to leave Cora to this life that she had chosen even if that meant it was a half-life. For now, he had to leave her alive, no matter how much he wanted to twist her neck and make her scream!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are not done yet with Cora! Oh-ho you better believe we are not done because there was one thing left to her story that was never covered, but talked about. There was one thing that I felt robbed of and had to correct in this fiction! In the show, we have a couple of small hints as to what Cora and Rumple's relationship was going forward. On more than one occasion, a battle between Rumple and Cora was referenced. This battle was never really explained further, but there was always one thing that came of it. Cora said she won, Rumple says he won. And I guess some people might see this as a sort of battle, but it's not good enough for me. Especially because we know, according to Rumple, he met Regina after she was born, "held her in his arms"...and then it would seem he leaves her life until Regina summons him because she has no clue who he is. Why? Oh...you know I am not about to let details like that go to waste! So ya'll, get ready, because for the last chapter in the Cora section, we are going to see that battle! Like Granny's story, it's one of my favorite additions to this story, and I can't wait to see what you think!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm sorry if this one seems scattered but I wanted it to feel a little like Rumple was falling apart at the seams, first from nerves, then from heartbreak. It is, in my mind, this scene that causes great repercussions in Rumple's life that will last for decades to come. Peace and Happy Reading!


	31. Lose the Battle, Win the War

He had been waiting for this day for over a year now. He'd been watching his cauldron and casting his spell for unpaid debts over and over again in anticipation of this precise moment. The moment Cora stood before an entire court of royals, held her baby up to them, and they bowed. It had been a couple of months since she'd had the child, he knew that. Of course, it would have been a sweet moment to arrive the very day she'd given birth to the girl and kill Cora then, but he'd decided this would be sweeter.

Let her see. Let her see exactly what she had traded him for, let her have exactly what she'd wanted and feel nothing for the heart that beat in her chest was no longer present! And then let her feel him crack those bones in her neck so that he might look into her eyes as it all faded away. That was what he'd wanted. Truly and more than anything else on this planet. He wanted to make her feel all the pain that she'd caused him, all the humiliation, all the foolishness. He wanted her to die knowing that he had won, that he had her child in his grasp, and she had nothing.

He waited, of course, until she and Prince Henry had returned to their own estate after the presentation. He hadn't had much choice. He'd set foot in Xavier's castle only once since Cora had dismissed him, and it was to check to see if that globe he'd seen in the library was still present. Not only had he learned it was gone, but he'd also learned that after the wedding, Cora had insisted upon further guards. The castle was crawling with them and as wonderful as it would be to kill her before them, it wouldn't have been smart. He needed access to her child, and if he did something so blatant, they would hide the girl away and protect her from him. He simply couldn't have that. So he let them think they were safe, he stayed far away until they returned to their private estate. Cora thought she was clever, placing the same spell on the Estate that he himself had placed over the King's Castle to ensure no one could hear their conversations. But even she could keep every mirror and reflective surface in the castle covered to shut him out completely. He might not have been able to hear because of her spell, but he'd watched as she'd grown pregnant and given birth. After the girl had been born, he'd watched as they traveled back to the King's castle for her Coronation Ceremony, the moment she was introduced, by name, to the Kingdom.

Regina. Her name was Regina, just as his foresight had told him. True, no sound came from the cauldron because of his spell, but he'd been able to recognize the name on Cora's lips the moment she held her up to greet the people. And so, the first born of Princess Cora was living, now it was his job to ensure that she studied and stay on the path that might lead her to magic. It was also his job to ensure that her mother never had any more children beyond her for no other purpose than the fact that he wanted her to suffer as he had.

On the night that they returned to their estate, he snuck inside. The property was quiet. He'd chosen this night in anticipation that the household, Cora included, might be tired from their travel. Obviously, he'd done a fair job of reassuring them that he no longer cared for Cora; otherwise, there would have been guards everywhere. As it was, when he entered the baby's nursery that night, he found only one maid sitting with the slumbering child as she read a book. A wave of his hand froze her before she could look up at him, and then he felt, tasted really, that familiar swell of Cora's magic. It came from a crystal he saw now, sitting at the other end of the room that glowed red for a brief moment before it died. Cora had given him up it seemed, but it also appeared she'd stayed actively engaged in her magical education. The crystal was a simple spell meant to sense Dark Magic like his own and alert the holder of a smaller piece crystal to its presence. Perhaps he hadn't done as well a job of chasing them off his scent as he thought he had. It appeared Cora, at least, knew he'd come. The Miller's Daughter was nothing if not clever. Always.

Sure enough, a few seconds after he stepped into the room and took the baby in his arms, the small flare of magic he felt was nothing compared to the wave that signified Cora's arrival. Not by a door or even a window, but by magic.

"You knew I'd come," he muttered, his back to her as he stared into the face of the sleeping babe. The Seer had nothing to say about it at the moment, but then at the moment, Regina was also entirely unremarkable. She was an ordinary babe as Baelfire had once been, turning her head into his chest as she slept on, seeking out any warmth the world had to offer. As a child, she could do nothing; it was as an adult that she would do everything.

"Somehow I knew you'd come lurking when she was born…though I did think it would be sooner than this," Cora stated behind him.

The room was dark other than the fire that highlighted small tufts of Regina's hair that he knew would fall out and someday become black as her mother's. She had that delicate look about her that all babies had, the small hands the rounded mouth the tiny toes and chubby arms that made them look like they were far more breakable than he'd learned they were when Baelfire was first born. But she didn't have the feel of being delicate. She had the feel of her mother. There was magic in this child, handed down from mother to daughter just as Cora's had been. It was a shame Cora had denied him. It would have been fun to see what kind of power Regina would be capable of if she had just a bit of his Darkness.

"Regina…I've been dying to know how you chose that name for her ever since I first saw it I my mind."

In his periphery vision, something finally moved, and he saw Cora, dressed in a fine gown circle around him and, after taking a look at the frozen maid, step up to the crib opposite him. Ever so calmly, Cora reached out and smoothed some of the blankets back off her daughter's face, ensuring she was still sleeping, he assumed. He let her, even moved forward a bit so that she could see it. It wasn't Regina who was in danger here; it was Cora. The witch had to know that.

"It means 'queen,'" she explained calmly. "I'm more determined now than I ever was that one day she will be Queen. She'll accomplish what I cannot."

"Queen?!" he joked. "You once said yourself that wouldn't happen without a lot of bloodshed."

"Not for me. I've accepted that. But for her…there is always more than one path to a final destination, Rumpelstiltskin…you taught me that."

"Yes, was that before or after you tore out your own heart to ensure your plans came true?" he inquired, finally looking up at her.

"Before," she stated plainly as if they'd just discussed how she took her tea and not the awfulness that occurred before she was wed. If not for the desire he had to reach out and rip her throat from her neck, he would have taken great joy in observing this moment for future reference. She'd torn her heart out, and if the look he was giving her now was any indication, she'd never put it back. There was nothing in her gaze. No hope, no longing, no fear, no inkling of the person she'd been before. That could sometimes happen with long-term heart removal, especially when practiced on oneself. If there was no one to tell the victim how to act, there was no veiling the symptoms. "What have you done to my daughter's maid?"

"Never you worry…she'll be fine once I wave my hand again. Though it is shocking that you show more panic for her than you do for your own flesh and blood. Perhaps I was lucky not to father a child with you if that is how you see your progeny."

"I'm not worried because I know you'd never hurt her," Cora sighed as if she was bored. "You need her too much."

Yes…that much was certain. Though he did feel a pain stab through his chest at the proclamation. He'd told her far too much in their time together.

"What are you doing here, Rumpelstiltskin?"

He sneered as he placed Regina back in the crib, she slept on, none the wiser that she'd ever been moved. "I've come to make good on my promise!"

Cora shook her head at him. "That deal is invalid," she argued. "She's not your child, Rumple, she belongs to Henry and to me! I was very careful to make sure of that!"

"This promise isn't the deal to which I'm referring, Dearie!" he muttered, stepping away from the bassinet. After all, he couldn't risk hurting the future queen now, could he? "It's a promise I made to myself that after the babe was born, you would feel my wrath for what you did in every bone of your body!"

He struck!

As he'd been talking he'd been gathering up magic and focusing it into his palm, now he let it grow into a ball of fire and tossed it quickly at Cora.

He had hoped to catch her by surprise, but before it could touch her heart and weaken her, she threw her own hand up, and he watched as the fire became water that sloshed down onto the rug.

But she didn't stop there! Before he could be disappointed, she threw a spell at him that had him flying back across the room. He hit hard on the wall and fell several feet with a great thud. A human would have needed time to recover, he didn't.

He waved his hand and covered Regina in a protective bubble, then cast a spell at the long mirror just behind Cora and watched as it cracked and splintered. Then one by one, he let the glass shards fly at her, aiming for soft spots, her eyes, her throat, her stomach, even her chest.

But her magic flared again, and the shards stopped only inches before her as though they were suddenly swimming in molasses. She held on tight, she struggled, her arms were up, her fingers spread as she cast her spells, her body was shaking from the energy as he continued to push those shards through her spells until-

Suddenly she gave up. She tucked and rolled and cried out as the tiny daggers whizzed passed her and imbedded themselves within the opposite wall. When she stood back up, she was bleeding. Her arm had taken several cuts and there was one on her cheek just under her eye. It was satisfying to see her bleed but not as satisfying as death!

She narrowed her gaze at him as the blood dripped from her arm.

"You said you loved me," she spat out.

"Love dies!" he shouted loud enough to wake the baby. Regina cried.

He braced himself for another spell and was preparing magic to counter act whatever she laid out for him. What he wasn't prepared for was her to run, to scream out and charge at him like a wild animal. Before he had time to act her body slammed into his own and pushed him. They fell, back through the balcony window, then with such force that they tripped and toppled over the balcony. The cuts he sustained on the back of his head were of little consequence as wind from the free fall whipped past him. He hadn't meant to save her, but she was still clinging to him and as they fell disappearing and reappearing at the edge of the property, away from any guards that might come to her aid had been instinctual. He tossed her away with force and quickly hardened the grass around them so that it created small piercing blades that he knew wouldn't kill but satisfied him when she screamed at the thousands of little punctures that now appeared on her body when she landed. She was a bloody mess as she stood up to face him. It wasn't as good as breaking every bone, but it came close.

"You foul brutish bastard!" she cried, before a ball of white and blue something flew at him. He moved around it easily. She was weakening. She may have been talented with her magic but she was still enough of a beginner that she couldn't beat him. He stepped up to grab her around the throat, but she slapped him. She slapped him so hard across the face his it made his ears ring and he bit his tongue so that he tasted blood.

Still, all he could do was laugh. A magical fight turned physical. That was all she had? That was all this mighty sorceress, this mistress of magic had up her sleeve to resort to? No more than a womanish slap? It was pathetic. And it gave him the perfect excuse to reach forward and wrap his hand tight around her neck. She shrieked before he squeezed and went rigid quickly, her back straight as he forced her to look him in the eye on tip-toe. Yes! This was the sweet justice he'd craved ever since that night so long ago!

"Is that how it's to be?" she asked in a small whispered voice. "You'll look into my eyes and kill me all the while seeing that soldier who made you kiss his boots in front of your son?"

Anger ran through his veins, and he fought to take deep breaths of cool air. He didn't want to think of their time together, of what they had discovered or what they had done or shared, but it was difficult when she reminded him of just how much of himself he'd bore to her. Never again. From this moment forth, there was only one person that mattered, and that was his son!

He jerked his elbow, bringing her forward so that they were nose to nose. "This time," he growled, "I'll see only you!"

But just as he finished his remark, he was shocked to find that she moved. Not backward, but forward. She slammed her mouth onto his, kissing him with a fierceness that she'd never had when she still possessed her heart. She wrapped her arms tight around his shoulders, she forced his mouth open, she sucked so hard he felt as though his tongue was going to be ripped from his mouth. Her last ditch effort? He supposed. It had worked only in that it surprised him enough to let go of her throat, but everything that kiss wasn't reminded him why he couldn't let it distract him, and he pulled away from her with such a ferocity that their lips smacked.

"That won't work on me, dearie," he smiled through gritted teeth. "Your talents are naught without your heart behind them. I've won!" This time, when he took her neck in his hand, he made sure to step away and do it magically so she wouldn't get the chance to distract him once more. Only…

As she stood there, her back straight from being caught up in his magic a distance away, she suddenly smiled. Then she moved her head and spat something on the ground.

"You haven't," she smiled again. Her teeth were stained with red. Blood, he realized. But he hadn't…

"No!" he cried releasing her from her hold as a white sheet suddenly rose up into the air between the pair of them. To the left and to the right as far as the eye could see, it encircled the entire estate revealing the property line, and he realized only too late what she'd done. It wasn't her that had been bleeding. And she hadn't kissed him as a distraction she'd done it to get at the blood in his mouth. Now she wiped her mouth on her arm as she stared safely at him. He reached out to touch the white barrier, but transparent as it was he felt like he was pressing against hard stone. He threw a spell of fire at it, but the wall held. He tried to use his magic to strangle Cora once more! But it was useless. She'd cast a protection spell. A very specific, very powerful spell.

"A Blood Sealing!" he realized as the white faded to an invisible shield that remained.

"Made stronger by the banishment of your name…your true name…"

He watched helplessly from the other side as she pulled free a piece of paper from her bodice. It was dark, but his eyes could just make out her neat scrawl upon it spelling out his true written name… "L" before "e". After showing it to him, she breathed upon it until fire sparked and began to consume it, turning the parchment into nothing but black. She let it go and he watched as it drifted from her hand toward the barrier. When it touched that even the blackened bit burned until it was nothing.

It was done.

"The only way you'll ever get back in here is with a summons, and I'll be sure that never happens, even if it means I have to carve out the tongue and take the heart of every servant in this place," she snarled.

"You evil little witch!"

"Having magic doesn't make you evil, you told me that," she retorted with such calm that it was eerie. "I'm simply protecting what's mine. Regina is my daughter. Any magic she learns will be taught by me, not you. And one day…one day she will be Queen in this world. You taught me too well, darling. I've bested you. I've won."

"The battle, not the war!" he snarled stepped as close to the barrier as he could. He was inches from her. Only inches! He could smell her fucking perfume and see every freckle on her face, but he knew that if he reached out to try and kill her again, he'd come up empty-handed! It wasn't even worth the energy to try!

But what she didn't know was that after all this time, he had complete confidence in the vision he'd received. They'd tried to change fate once before, and they'd failed. He had no reason to think this would be any different!

"You forget that I have time and foresight on my side! You can't see what I can! I will have that child! I will have her to do my bidding. I will win! And I'll be sure she knocks you aside, never to see it, when I do! It'll make you wish you had never altered that agreement!"

Cora stared him down, unflinching, hiding safely behind her shield. Then she nodded.

"I wish you luck in that endeavor, my dear, but I have more important things to do than trouble myself with the ramblings of a monster who can't move on. I have a daughter to see to."

He didn't scream when she disappeared. He didn't rant or rave or make a scene. He knew any reaction he had would be useless out in the middle of nowhere with no one to hear.

Trust, he reminded himself instead. He had to have trust in the vision he'd seen, in the prophecy he'd heard. Blood Seals and Name Banishings could be broken by one simple thing. A summoning. She couldn't eliminate his name forever. He was too powerful. Someday, one word was all it would take; his name said three times, and the spell would break. And when it did he would be here again for the child, ready, prepared. He would do what he had to do to find Baelfire. He would win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ends the Cora section. It is my hope that this chapter answers a lot of questions for us not only from the series but also in some other canon pieces like "Regina Rising". This battle, in my opinion, allows us to understand Regina and Rumple arguing over who won their battle. When we look at this through Cora's eyes it's easy to say how she could say "I won the battle with Rumple", and it's easy to see how Rumple would probably agree with that statement but then confidently be able to say "Yes, but I won the war, so I won." This chapter and the protection spell, in my opinion, also explains why Rumple would say "I held you as baby" but then he completely disappears from Regina's life. It explains why, in Regina Rising, Cora is constantly babysitting Regina, never wanting her to leave the property alone because then Rumple could potentially have access to her. In some ways, it also explains how Henry kinda sort knows about Rumple and why Cora got a thing for tearing out the hearts of her servants. They fucking crash through windows and mirrors in Regina's room and then leave. That noise is bound to wake someone and summon Henry and she'd going to have to explain at least a little bit what happened. She doesn't have to be detailed, but she'd have to at least explain that it was Rumple and she banished him. And Henry is smart enough that I think he'd be able to see through some of her lies and excuses eventually. And as for the servant's hearts, she was trying to make sure no one ever spoke Rumple's name and broke the spell. And of course, as wrap up, we learn that the globe is missing (we know Cora has it), and we also learn that Cora used the knowledge of his true name against him, further scarring him.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I really hope you like this chapter because I really enjoyed writing it and wrapping everything up for the Cora section nicely! A new section begins next with a chapter that just might be the most important chapter of this entire fiction. Why? Let's find out! Peace and Happy Reading!


	32. The Dark Curse

If there was one thing that he excelled at, it was taking the tragedy that was his life and using it for something useful-like motivation. The way he saw it, after the debacle with Cora he could sit around, feeling sorry for himself, throwing fireballs at a hand-drawn portrait, and twisting his fingers wondering if he'd truly ruined the prophecy, or…he could get to work. He could trust that the prophecy would be just as right as it always was. He could trust that one day one of the servants, who he'd heard had their tongues, as well as a few hearts, removed, would utter a name they heard. Or, perhaps to his joy and delight, it would be Cora, perhaps she'd let the name slip when telling her new best friend, a dragon named Maleficent, where she'd learned her magic. Or better yet, perhaps it would be Regina herself. Now wouldn't that be the spectacle!

He chose, of course, to trust the prophecy. He had no reason not to. Everyone in his life, his father, the fairies, Milah, and now Cora, they all seemed to lie to him at every turn. The prophecy was the only thing that seemed unwavering. Why wouldn't he trust it?

But the thing about remembering to trust it meant that he was suddenly aware of just how much work there was to be done. Being away from Cora…it was as if someone had dashed cold water on his face. He could see the eldest child of Princess Cora, he knew that she was alive, but he also knew that while nothing was going to happen anytime soon, time could fly. Right now, the child was just that, a child. There was no chance that she was going to create a curse that would harm a fly, much less one that would take him to see his son! He needed to wait until she came of the proper age to learn magic. With a mother like Cora, a foul woman who had removed her own heart, he had no doubt that when the time finally came, she'd have the right motivation. But there was a rub, of course. If he didn't get his hands on the curse, there would be no curse to cast! Or worse, Regina would somehow find it on her own, and he'd be unprepared.

Well, of course, he'd been looking for the right curse! Of course, he'd been searching for it ever since he'd first talked to the Blue Fairy all those years ago! His library was filled with books of dark history, powerful curses, abominations the world did not speak of. He'd read every single one of their pages in search of the curse that could do something like what the Blue Fairy had lied to him about. So far, he'd come up empty-handed. He had to do something, had to attempt something that had never been attempted before…he had to send someone into the Fairy's Garden. Donna and Steven were, of course, the optimal solution. Their ability to take orders without questioning was only paralleled by their ability to place themselves in the heart of danger without arguing. Not that they'd had much choice in the matter, of course. Two weeks ago, he'd sent them away. Armed with small bags and jars, handfuls of spells and magic they might need to pull off their heist, he'd sent them to the Fairy's stronghold to figure out what curse the Blue Fairy feared so much. He'd been awaiting their return ever since.

But he hadn't been bored. There was plenty to watch as he waited for them. It was Regina's fifth birthday. And oh, what a birthday she was given. He'd watched preparations for it all this week in his cauldron, watching as her mother and father filled the castle with good things for their precocious little girl. Now it was the time of the actual party. Five years old and she'd been given the head of the table. He watched as the image showed two women carrying a large cake out and setting it down before her as her father and mother stood on either side.

Poor girl. She was unhappy about something, clearly. Perhaps the gown she was wearing as she kept picking and itching and Cora kept coming forward to pull her hands away. The images he pulled out of the cauldron were always silent, unfortunately, but he could tell by the facial cues and the way she moved her mouth that whatever Cora had just whispered into her ear as she pulled her hand away yet again, had not been pleasant. Regina did look miserable.

But if it was any consolation, it didn't last long. It never did when her father was around. The second Cora stepped away, he came up behind Regina and whispered something in her ear that made both of them break out into a smile. Her mother might have been a horrendous bitch incapable of loving anyone because of the choices she'd made, but he had to give it to Prince Henry, he seemed to genuinely love the girl. Better yet, Regina seemed to adore her father. From what he'd seen of their relationship, they were always happy when they were with one another and sometimes it made Cora clearly so angry that it made him happy as well. Anything that managed to get under Cora's skin was a miracle so far as he was concerned. Anything like this…

After her father had finished whispering in her ear, Regina had nodded as she smiled. Her father offered her hand to her and she began to stand up on the chair she had been sitting so properly in. He saw Cora step forward, her mouth formed the word "Henry!" in a sharp rebuke, but he ignored her it seemed as he helped Regina lean forward so she could close her eyes and blow out the candle. Cora glared at the pair of them the entire time, but Henry didn't notice. The moment Regina opened her eyes again, they immediately grew wide, and her jaw dropped. She looked at her father, who nodded and told her something he couldn't make out before he picked her up off the chair and set her down on the ground. He joined the guests in watching as she ran quickly over to a small gray pony and hugged it as the guests applauded. Regina's mouth was moving rapidly. As her father joined her, he thought she might have been saying "Thank you" over and over again in that way children did when they were excited. And there was Cora in the corner. Sulking. Incapable of rejoicing with them or feeling anything for this happy moment. She had all the symptoms of someone who had no heart. And he didn't feel the least bit sorry for her. Not even when-

Intruder!

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he waved his hand over the cauldron, forcing the image away. He looked around. He had so many protection spells on the castle place that he knew when the mice came and went. His magic was telling him he wasn't alone now. Someone was here. And it wasn't someone who was coming to him for a deal. This individual was filled with magic already — Light Magic.

As if sensing that she'd been discovered, he watched as none other than the Blue Bug herself came brazenly in through the open window across the tower.

"You don't have permission to enter here, Dearie."

She stopped just over his spinning wheel and sighed. "I'm here for you. We thought you'd want these back!"

All at once, she waved the wand in her hand, and a small portal-like hole appeared just over his table. There was a thud as something came crashing down onto it, and the magic above dissolved.

It wasn't just one thing; it was two. The dolls, Donna and Steven, they'd been discovered and…

There was something different about them, something that made them nearly unrecognizable when they'd first fallen. Now, as he stepped up to put his hands over them and prepared for the small feeling of familiarity that came when he encountered magic of his own, he realized what that difference was. There was no feeling. There was no recognition. No magic in them at all!

"You've-"

"Freed them!" the Blue Fairy admitted as he stared up at her. "We used Light Magic to send their souls away, onto the beyond. Jiminy has already been informed. It was his greatest wish other than to help their child, and it was our greatest wish too once we saw what you had done to them. They're of no use to you now, Rumpelstiltskin!"

"You filthy little witch!"

Magic began to roll off of him just as anger coursed inside of him. He'd never know now if they'd found what he was looking for! He'd have to figure out another way to discover that curse! Fire blossomed over his palm, and he reared back to throw it at her.

"I'm a fairy!" she cried before he could. "This is what we do! Good!"

"I've never known a fairy to do good!" he roared. "Or have you forgotten your little secret about the Black Fairy?"

"The Black Fairy…" she shook her head and turned her nose up at him. "I don't know what you are talking about. And just because we won't assist you in destroying the realm to find your son doesn't mean we don't do good, Rumpelstiltskin!"

He let out a shout that sounded far more like a war cry than a scream as he hurled the ball in his hand at the bug. She dodged it, the stone behind her blackened.

"As if that will solve anything," she chastised. "You had your chance, Rumpelstiltskin, you didn't take it, now you have to live with the consequences. We won't let the rest of the realm suffer because of your unhappiness!"

"Get out!" he roared. "Get out of my castle! Get out!"

"Happily," she stated before turning and flying out the way that she'd come, but he…

He couldn't go back to what he'd been doing, not with those two soulless pieces of wood lying on the table staring at him. Anger and revenge, those were always the emotions that made it so easy for him to summon up his magic and use it. But a funny thing happened when anger multiplied, when it became nothing but pure rage, he'd found it was almost impossible to use his magic, and in truth, he didn't want to. It was much more satisfying to feel things around him break at his own hands rather than magical ones that did not exist.

So he raged. He swept his arms out over the contents of the tables before him and listened to the crashing and smashing of glass. He tipped over his cauldron and watched as the liquid spilled across the floor, the wet putting the fire out with a flash that turned it purple for just a minute. He kicked the stool to his spinning wheel across the room, where it sailed into the wall and burst into pieces. He moved to the table the dolls had been dropped upon and moved to flip it over only…

Ever since he'd got them, those dolls always wore the same clothes. They were always unchanging. He'd seen it so many times he knew exactly what they looked like just as he knew exactly what they should feel like when his magic once coursed through them. The small piece of ivory colored something that he saw sticking out of a pocket on Donna's dress…he'd never seen that before.

Already on two legs, he quickly set the table back down on all fours and moved Steven aside so he could examine Donna. It was a piece of paper, rough around the edges as if it had been torn from something. It was old, thus it's odd color. And it was small. Too small even for the doll to have held but with the fairies being so tiny he'd assumed their Coven was too and so one of the potions he'd given the pair was one that would shrink them down to a fairy's size to search. On the back, there appeared to be writing on it, tidy womanly scrawl, but on the other side, there was only paper and something bigger scribbled in gray. That could only mean one thing. She must have found something. Better yet, she'd written something down. And she must have shoved it in her pocket before the Blue Fairy caught them.

Quickly, he checked the rest of the pockets, not only on Donna but also on Steven. That single piece of paper was all that he found. It was all that was left. But the writing was too small, even with his eyesight, he couldn't read it and with the cauldron smashed he didn't have the time to make a potion that would grow it into a decent size. Even then, he wasn't willing to risk harming whatever was on the paper itself. Instead, he found the shattered remains of a magnifying glass and waved his hand over them to restore it. Then he flatted out the little scrap of paper and looked at it through the glass. On the backside, the tiny scribbles seemed to be a record of some kind. It appeared to document an incident in fairy history, one where a mother attempted to cut her son's destiny away from him with the Shears of Destiny, and the Fairy God-mother intervened. That was where the record cut off. But on the other side, there were only three words written on the paper, but they were enough to make him smile and say "well done" to the lifeless figure. She had been smart and useful, after all. She'd been freed by those fairies but not without leaving him with the answer he sought first.

_The Dark Curse._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the third, and shortest, section of The Dark Curse. I call this section The Preparation Section and it's kind of a weird situation. The Preparation Section covers a large span of time in only a few short chapters (as you can see here five years have passed since the last chapter), as such the Preparation Section sort of plays as "filler section" in getting to our next section. However, "Filler Section" means that it has the opposite effect on the chapters in the section. Since there is not a lot going on during this section, it stands to reason that if something gets a chapter, it must be something really important! As as you can see, we're starting out strong with this chapter. Considering what this fiction is really about, it's possibly the most important chapter of the fiction. I loved getting to write this chapter even if there wasn't a whole lot of action involved in it. For clarification, he has not actually found The Dark Curse, we all know that is safely tucked away on Bald Mountain at the moment. But up until this chapter, all he knew was that someday Regina would cast "a powerful curse". This is the moment that the curse gets its name and he knows what he has to go after now. We're still a long way away from finding it, but now he knows he has to find "The Dark Curse". In addition, I explained why we never really saw much of Donna and Stephen in the series. They're useless now. Nothing but dolls. So for the most part, every time we encounter them beyond this in the story they're really nothing but a relic of really clever Dark One Magic. I guess he'll be needing new help in the future. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I'm really happy everyone enjoyed that section even if we aren't Golden Heart Fans! I'm so honored you continue to read this with me through thick and thin! Fair warning, The Preparation section is the shortest section in this fiction, it's only about 9 chapters. So if some of the randomness within this section bugs you, never worry, we'll be out of it soon enough! Peace and Happy Reading!


	33. Someday Soon

It was no wonder he'd never suspected anything like "The Dark Curse" would take him to Baelfire, information on the damn thing was nearly impossible to find! It took him two years to find a single reference to anything called "The Dark Curse", and even then, it was only a sentence in an introduction to a book on Dark Magic, something that suggested such a thing was a myth and legend. Still, it was something, and considering the fact he'd been about to lose hope and assume that Donna had simply written down some phrase she'd heard while she'd searched without actually finding evidence of such a thing, it was enough to reinvigorate him.

A "myth" the author claimed…then he would look among the myths. For a year, he waded through them, through book after book, library after library, sometimes breaking into houses and stealing books they had, absorbing every bit of information he could when he found it and even then, what he found was still not much.

The Dark Curse, it had been first penned on a scroll that was made of magical parchment. It was a difficult piece of magic, requiring lots of power, but it was also, at its heart, a simple spell. He learned that the cost to enact it would be great, nearly impossible for some individuals. But, if the Curse was done correctly, if everything was sorted and the price was paid, and the ingredients were right, then the Curse had the ability to rip through this or any land, taking everyone and their most precious items to another world, one that was the complete opposite of this one, a realm where magic didn't exist.

It took him a little over three years to put that much together. Three years to come up with a name, a description, a warning…now all he needed was to find the damn thing! He couldn't just put one of his own together, not without getting a magical scroll and as far as he knew those were exclusive to the Fairies hideaway and he knew for a fact there would be no getting in there now. As much as he hated to admit it, the Blue Fairy was a smart little insect, she'd have found the insecurities Donna and Stephen had exploited and made efforts to be certain it could never happen again by now. And as for going there himself, well, he'd tried once, just before sending he dolls to do it for him…the experience hadn't ended well. That only meant that he had to find the original.

The myths he read only left one hint for him. It wasn't with the fairies. Not anymore. They may have had some kind of record of it, which had enabled Donna to find it, but they didn't have it at their Garden, not anymore. The Dark Curse was just that-a Curse of Dark Magic, and creatures who claimed they only practiced blessings of Light Magic wouldn't be able to physically endure having it close to them. It would rot them from the inside out. Pleasant as that image was in his head, even better was the knowledge that they hadn't destroyed it. The magical parchment used to write it upon was sacred to fairies; once the Curse was bound to it there would be no way they could destroy it unless it involved enacting the Curse. Only by casting the Curse would the parchment be weak enough to be torn in two and then reversed.

And so that deduction left him with two solid leads. One, the Curse still existed. Two, it was somewhere in this world. But where?! Obviously, it was guarded. The Wretch knew he was looking for it and had been for over a hundred years, she may not be willing to risk keeping it inside the Gardens, but he doubted she was going to simply bury it in a treasure chest where just anyone would find it. It would have a spell, maybe even several enchantments, that would protect it. But every time he searched for a location where good magic was in excess, it was never what he was looking for. There was something else to this, something else to this puzzle he wasn't mastering. He had to get his hands on The Curse soon, so he could learn it and manipulate it, understand it, and plan for it. He had to do this all so he could get it into the hands of Regina when the time was right!

At eight years old the spell over her home had yet to be broken, but eight was still far too young, even if he was beginning to notice some signs of the girl having abilities, she wasn't aware of them yet. Much to her mother's displeasure, she was far more interested in horses than she was learning about balls and manners and government. But sometimes, when he watched the family together, he could see the seeds of unhappiness growing deeper than just ordinary family quarrels. It seemed that Regina had inherited her mother's ability to do magic when she was angry, ironically enough, that usually only happened around Cora. Henry, he was loathed to admit it, was a doting father. He spoiled the girl, but not to the point she was rotten. Around him, she was sweet and happy, the second her mother took over, every time he saw her scream at the pair of them or insist Regina did something or other, he could see that spark in her eyes that told him someday she would be far more than she was. Someday he'd use that to help her and use it to get his revenge on Cora, without a doubt.

And one day, as he peered into his cauldron and watched a scene play out that he'd already seen in his head, the remembered he'd use another doomed relationship to get what he wanted from her.

There she lay, just as he'd once seen her in a vision, Queen Eva.

He'd been watching all day as maids and mistresses, doctors and doulas, ladies-in-waiting, and midwives had fluttered in and out of her bedroom. It had been an usually cold and bitter Winter. Their Kingdom had a record snowfall. And as the Queen's water had broken, another storm had swept over the Kingdom. The birth had not been easy for the first-time mother, it hadn't been easy for him to watch from his cauldron too if he was entirely honest. He couldn't hear anything, but he'd become quite skilled at knowing what things sounded like in a room just by the reactions of those around the individuals. Truth be told, without magic in the King's home, he could have watched through a mirror which would have allowed him to hear it, but he didn't feel he needed that. If he was reading the situation correctly, every time Eva cried, it was more a scream. He didn't need noise like that in his head.

The servants who held hands and legs were nearly as covered in sweat as she was. Even times of rest had the poor Queen laid back on her pillows crying and shaking her head as her body trembled. But eventually, the faces of worry exploded into joyful smiles. A small flailing bundle was laid on the chest of the Queen before she was cleaned, then she was taken away, swaddled, and placed properly in her mother's arms.

He'd watched content from his tower cauldron as people had come and gone, coming to see mother and child, including her husband Leopold, all before the rather large servant finally ushered them out of the room and left Eva there with the child in her arms for a moment of peace and quiet. It was then that he allowed himself to look in on her through a mirror, to hear the words he knew would be said because of the vision he'd seen when he'd first met Cora.

"There must be three feet of snow out there, your Highness!" the servant by the window stated with a happy smile. "An oddity this time of the year, to be sure, but not this year it seems. Still, now that the little Princess has come, it's stopped. There is nothing but beautiful pristine white, but it all pales in comparison to her. It's as though the gods knew that there was no competition for a more glorious sight."

"Then, we must name her after it!" Eva cooed, looking down at her sleeping daughter with a happy smile. "Mustn't we, my little Princess, my little Snow White."

Someday was coming soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but obviously sweet and very, very important. Important enough that even though it was short I thought it deserved it's own chapter. As of this chapter Snow White has come into the world. And I think knowing what he does about Regina and Snow and how the future will play out this is a really significant thing for Rumple. He knows that it is the child of Snow White who will break the curse, so after over one-hundred years of not knowing how long it might be, suddenly he has the knowledge that the Savior could be born anywhere from sixteen years to thirty-eight years from this point. That's huge for him. Also, we were able to keep with all the information the show gave us about Snow. We know she was born March 10th (I believe) and that she was named for a great snowstorm. I made sure to keep all of that intact!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! Happy you liked the wrapping up of Stephen and Donna as well as how he found out about the Curse. I'm hopeful that even though this is a short chapter with not much "action" you'll enjoy this one too. And worry not, things are interesting again in the next chapter! Peace and Happy Reading!


	34. In the Meantime

It wasn't the best time for people to come seeking deals from him. Winter was coming on. It wasn't quite freezing yet, it was still only Fall in the village, but the mountain was already cold. He was already experiencing high winds and occasional bouts of snow that usually chased people away from his domain, making them question just how much they wanted to talk to him. So when he heard a knock on his door, he was almost eager to answer, just to see just who had braved the cold to speak with him.

In the foyer, he waved his hand, and the front door opened automatically on not one, not two, but three visitors. A very tall blonde woman, flanked by two shorter women of similar face. Obviously sisters. The two sisters on the outside were shivering from the cold, they huddled around their third sister who didn't seem overly bothered by it. They stood as a united force, clutching their hands together in a death grip. Fear. But not permanent fear. As they stood there before him he observed as one squeezed their hand and the grip loosened ever so slightly. A sisterly acknowledgement that they were there for one another and to have no fear and-

The Seer was talking in his head. The Dark Ones were stirring too, sharing information he hadn't caught before. The sisters were far from ordinary. And the one in the middle…she was far from weak.

"Well, well, well, what do I have here but the three beauties of…Arendelle?! My what a long way you've come. And, oh! Princesses, I believe. Well, in that case, what an honor to make your acquaintance," he pronounced, dropping into a deep bow.

"How could you know that?" one of the girls asked, a smile suddenly curling over her face.

"Well, you're the ones who have come to see me and come such a long way for a reason, of course! You must know then that it is my job to know all. Otherwise you wouldn't have come."

There it was. A squeeze. The one who had smiled, her intrigue disappeared as her sister squeezed her hand but not out of fear or calming. It was a warning. And if the looks on the girl's faces were any indication, they could tell the difference. What interesting dynamics at play.

"Yes, um…thank-thank you for seeing us Mister Rumpels-Dark One…Sir!"

"Mister, Mister, Mister, Sir, Sir, Sir…tell me, what have I done to earn such monikers."

"Oh!" the girl gasped with wide eyes. "Well…we were just…I was just-"

"My sister was just trying to be polite-"

"No need to respond, Dearie," he informed the older sister. "'Twas a rhetorical question." Another squeeze and this time…magic. Not only through the middle girl, where he sensed it the most, but through all the sisters, though he could sense the gift wasn't in the two on the side, it was something else. There, on their wrists…three ribbons. One for each. They'd flared with magic when they'd squeezed one another's hands. How interesting...

"Now, why don't you step into my domain and tell me all about your problems," he waved them in, and the moment they were inside, he let the door close behind them with a bang that made them jump and gasp…and squeeze. And there it was again, that small bit of magic. He turned on his heel and led them into the Great Room.

"Oh, Sir-Dark One, it's really my problem, not theirs!" one of the girls cried out behind him as they followed.

"Ingrid, don't be silly! We're sisters. Your problems are our problems. We want to help you! Let us!"

"You see, Mist-Si-Dark One, when we were children, we learned that our sister as born with ice powers!" the other one responded. "She can make ice and snow when she wants."

"But also when I don't want to, I can't control myself."

"Right, which is why we're here! We need your help-"

" _I_ need your help to stop them. So I can live with my sisters and in my Kingdom in peace without fear they'll discover who I am-"

"What," he corrected quickly as he took a seat at the other end of the table and left them standing there opposite him.

"Excuse me?" the middle girl, Ingrid, the future Queen of Arendelle, questioned.

"What you are…not who you are," he corrected. He'd already heard enough to know what was going on. Ice powers. Very specific, only teaching her more would tell him for sure, but if he had to guess, she was a genuine Elemental; those capable of controlling only one of the four magical elements, but controlling it with such force that they were in fact stronger than those who could deal in all four. Other Dark One's had dealt with Elementals prior to him but he'd only ever seen one other in his life, also from Arendelle, also with the ability to create and harness ice…perhaps a family member? How many generations back had that girl been?

"Sir, our sister is no monster, if that's what you're implying!"

"Who said anything about a monster?" he questioned. In fact, the one he'd known before was quite in control of her powers, and most Elementals did eventually learn to control them out of necessity. So long as they learned to embrace their powers and not run terrified from them, most Elementals could live out their days peacefully with few ever really knowing what they were. But, he supposed, the difference between who and what…it was a simple mistake to make.

"What she is would be far more than that. Perhaps you are but too young to understand that what we are influences who we are and who we will become. There is no shame in understanding ourselves completely."

"You see Ingrid!" the smiling sister commented, squeezing her sister's hand again. "It's just as we've said. We don't have to be here, we can help you learn to love yourself."

"I don't care!" Ingrid insisted, squeezing both their hands. The ribbons flared. He wondered, did they know what they had before him. "Gerta, Helga…I just want these powers gone! I just want to be normal! Can you help me do that, Dark One?" she asked suddenly, turning her head and fixing her stare upon him so that he had to fight back a shudder. A woman of ice indeed.

"Perhaps…" The Seer wasn't just whispering now, she was screaming, showing him flashes in his head of a world he didn't know yet but had seen in other visions.

_A wall of ice._

_A mirror imbued with magic._

_Villian._

_Victim._

_Curse._

_A feeling of death, murder._

_"You shall try. Kill the spares. Spare your family. Try you shall."_

_Sisters. But not these three. A bond preserved…through the ribbons on their wrists._

_"Only when the time is right."_

"Ice powers, you say?" he shouted from the other side of the table.

"And snow," Ingrid finished for him.

"My, my, how intriguing. And such a rare gift. Why would you ever want to give it up? Perhaps I could interest you in lessons instead?" Lessons would certainly allow him to identify her gifts more completely, perhaps even tell him why the Seer in his mind was painting her as blackness when she wore so much white. Not to mention it might help him learn how to better guide Regina who had to be the priority-

 _"Kill the spares, spare your family!"_ the Seer shouted.

It was all very intriguing, but that especially deserved a look. If she was a danger to Baelfire…he wasn't about to go through all this trouble just to put his son at risk again.

"No," she refused outright. "I want to stop them. We heard that you were the greatest collector of magic in all the Land. You must have something that can help."

"Well, of course, I do, dearie," he was quick to remark. In fact, he had exactly the things that she would be needing. But watching as the sisters continued their hand-holding…he couldn't for the life of him understand why she was here. To get rid of powers such as her own was drastic when she needed only to master the art of control, something he was certain at least one sister wanted to help her with. He sat forward. "The thing I don't understand is why you need me when you already have all the help you could possibly ask for."

"What do you mean?" she questioned. An innocent question. Truly innocent. This girl, she hadn't a clue what she possessed. It seemed that in addition to her powers she was also the proud owner of ignorance and had no desire, it seemed to want to rid herself of that. She'd rather displace her own powers than be brought into the light? He wasn't about to lose a couple of his prized possessions over ignorance.

He moved to get up, but instead of taking his time to walk to them, he simply appeared behind them, a demonstration of what control of power could do. Perhaps she'd be impressed by it. Maybe even changed.

"True love comes in many forms," he pointed out. "But the sisterly bond... Oh!" he moved to the other side. "Worth its weight in magic."

"My powers are too strong. I need something to control them," Ingrid insisted yet again. Now, there was a stubborn woman if he'd ever met one.

"Well, if you insist. Just remember," he explained as he leaned against his table to watch the girls. "Love is free. But all magic comes with a price!"

From a drawer in his workshop, he called forth a pair of pale blue gloves. He'd gotten them in a hasty deal with a witch who had a hobby of carving wood. In his opinion, they were the only thing that she'd ever done that had any value for she'd placed on them a neutrality spell. They would cancel any magic they came into contact with, much the way the cloak he'd given dear Granny worked.

"These gloves can help you conceal your powers," he explained as he presented them to her.

"And stop them?" Ingrid pressed.

He let out a little laugh. Clever enough to catch on to a simple turn of phrase but too ignorant to take the time to learn about herself. He supposed that made her simply average—an awful thing considering the power inside of her.

"Well, only if you believe it." Elementals were known for conjuring their magic with the use of their emotions, but they often learned first to channel it through their hands. Gloves, and her continued belief in her own ignorance, should take care of most of the problem. But not all. "Faith can be powerful. But for those who lack it, well, sometimes another solution is required…"

He turned his attention and thus their own to a special urn that he'd only acquired recently. He'd practically throttled the man who brought it to him once he learned what it could do. It captured magic. Contained it in the most uncomfortable of ways. All magic. Including his own. Which was perhaps why he preferred to keep it in this room, far away from his own laboratory where he did most of his work, lest he accidentally find it opened and himself inside it. He'd rather face the hells of Pandora's Box.

"Think of this as your fail-safe," he explained, carefully picking it up off of its pedestal. He had a mortar and pestle that was of little use to him he could put in its place. "If things get too chilly, simply pop the top and in you go. All your powers will be contained, and all of the Realms shall be safe from you. Problem solved," he concluded, offering it to them.

Ingrid nodded, a small smile twitching in her cheeks even as her sisters exchanged a disapproving glance behind her back.

Their bond broke as Ingrid stepped forward, ready to take them from him, and he fought to roll his eyes. Someone stepping up to take his possessions without properly concluding their deal was something that happened all too often. Fortunately, he happened to love this part of the process.

"I don't know how you do things in Arendelle, dearie, but here a deal requires an exchange of goods," he stated, pulling the urn away from her. "What I want is…uh…" he feigned looking about them as he left the urn on the table. But there was nothing to consider. He'd had his eye on something that he wanted from the moment they came in. It was the first thing the Seer had zeroed in on when he'd seen them. He didn't know why they were important, not yet, but he doubted it was a custom in Arendelle to wear yellow ribbons on one's wrist. He also doubted it was an accident that they'd all worn them the same day. The ribbons meant something, not only to them but to the future. He had to know what.

"These lovely ribbons! All three!"

Immediately the girls turned to their wrists and looked them over.

"Our ribbons?" Ingrid questioned as the other two girls looked at one another with wide eyes. Sentiment…that was what he saw. "But they're just silly little things we've worn since we were children," Ingrid explained. It wasn't much to go on for a normal man, but for one who had been around for far longer than a normal man should and understood he was a monster as Ingrid feared she'd become, he'd gotten just enough information. They were precious. And precious objects could sometimes absorb that sentiment he saw in their eyes.

"Sometimes, with enough love, ordinary objects can come to possess their own special kind of magic," he explained, purposefully getting up and moving about the table so she could see the urn and the gloves before her. A very clear choice with no obstacles but her own in her way.

"Ingrid, no," he heard one of the sisters urge.

"We can't give them up. It's not right," the other agreed.

"I-i-it's just a symbol," Ingrid stuttered. "It's not strong enough. I need something that will guarantee that I never hurt anyone again." Again…how lucky was he. Hurting others could be excellent motivation for the right individual. Perhaps the murder the Seer now rambled on about in his mind. "Like he said, a fail-safe."

"We are your fail-safe, Ingrid," one of the girls stressed.

Oh, but how unlucky was he that these girls seemed…particularly bonded. It was a questionable deal, he knew that much, but the monster inside of him didn't particularly care if the deal was good or bad, all that mattered was making it! And if he allowed them to talk much longer…there would be none.

"Do we have a deal?" he questioned, bursting back into their conversation quickly. Ingrid looked back and forth between her sisters and then finally at the ribbon on her wrist.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching down to undo the bow. "It's not enough."

The sisters may have disagreed with their sister, but at her motion, they listened and followed through. They removed their own ribbons and offered them to him as well.

"Deal, deal, deal," he chimed as he held them in his hand, then stepped aside and allowed Ingrid to swoop in and take her prizes. Oh, she didn't waste time, she handed the urn to her sister and quickly put the gloves on her own hands as though they were her salvation. Yes…that would solve most of the problem. As for the last little bit.

"Careful with that urn, dearie!" he called out to the redhead who held it now. "Opening it accidentally could have…undesirable consequences." The sisters looked at each other with wide eyes before the blonde on the right gave a tug on her sister's arms.

"Let's go," she urged. They were gone in the blink of an eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter seems like filler but it sets up so many important chapters for the future! This is only the first introduction we have to the Arendelle clan, and we will be encountering one of the sisters again, maybe sooner than you think. But, in my mind, one of the most important things this chapter does is set up a self-fullfilling prophecy. I wanted it to show just how intense the Seer's powers are and how she is easy to misinterpret. "Kill the spares, spare your family," along with the words "you will try." I worded that just so. For someone hearing it for the first time, as Rumple is, it's easy to assume that the Seer is warning him, saying "hey, when all this goes down you need to kill everyone and escape with your family." But for those of us that have seen it, we know that it's just an ordinary prediction, she's saying "in the future, you are going to try and kill everyone and save your family." It's not the warning he thinks, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. That's how I choose to explain season 4A. Hopefully, you don't mind it and think it's decent.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter! I'm really interested to hear what you think of this one since this chapter is sort of set up to the set up to the set up. I can't wait for part two of the set up, which is coming later but probably sooner than you think. Better yet, I'm excited for the next chapter. I think it's going to come as a bit of a surprise to some people, but ultimately I think you'll like it. I'm on pins and needles, personally, it is the one chapter that I'm really hoping I didn't screw up. Peace and Happy Reading!


	35. A Few Favorite Things

He supposed it would do no harm to admit it, but it was a carefully guarded secret all the same. He loved being summoned by royals. Perhaps this stemmed from those older times when he felt like no one was more responsible for his situation like those who were above him, oppressing him and forcing him to live in a way that was beneath humanity as well as him. He liked knowing that they were suddenly the ones in debt to him, bowing and begging and pleading with him to answer their heart's greatest desire. He had the power and he reveled in it, even when they didn't know exactly what they were face to face with.

"You're the Dark One?" King George questioned, keeping his distance by the fire.

He smiled. "One would assume…" he commented motioning to indicate his body as proof. He did love being summoned by royals but this one in particular brought him glee in a way he didn't know it could. King George, the man he'd seen at the party when he'd first met Cora, the time had finally come for him to call on him and he had a feeling that he knew exactly what he was going to ask for. And he would be quite happy to provide it. The False Prince was, after all, a key figure in his plans. This meant that it was imperative that he keep the King just as happy as he was. "Your Majesty," he flung out his arms wide and bowed low to the ground. "Rumpelstiltskin, at your service!"

"That's fine," he dismissed. "I didn't summon you here for pleasantries. I asked you here for a reason."

"Most do." He stood up tall again but continued to glare at King as he moved so formally about the room. Back straight, hands clasped behind him. A perfectly well put together gentlemen, everything a king should be! If it weren't for the fact that he turned his back on him so often. He had confidence in himself; he'd give him that. But his walking meant fear and unease, and turning around meant he dealt with it as a child who thought that if they simply kept their eyes closed, the monsters they feared lived under their beds would think they were asleep and leave them in peace. At his heart, he was an ignorant man.

"I'm not about to waste time. I'm going to get right down to the matter at hand."

"Ah, a trait I wish so many of my clients shared!"

"I need a baby," he stated simply, ignoring his final comments and turning to face him so that his foot stomped in place with the finality of his request.

"A baby!" he laughed giddily. He loved it when a prophecy came together the way it should. But still, it would be fun to twist knives into the heart of this royal and to see just how honest he would be. "Most King's would simply use their Queen's to fulfill such a request. Did your father never take you aside and tell you about that?" he teased as he threw an arm up and began to recite: "The Birds and the Bees? The Eel and the Cave? The Man and the Woman?"

"Are you quite finished?" he interrupted. Oh, now he was a lucky one. He needed him, and so he was one of the few who would not snap his neck for such a comment, but that didn't mean it made him want to help out of anything more than an urge to get back to Baelfire. "Such crudeness. Of course, I know how babies are made; that's why you are here. The Queen and I, we can't have children…Annie she…"

"Doesn't want a child?!" he toyed. If he hadn't interrupted, he might have admitted to him that he knew exactly why his dear Annie would never have a baby. Now he was just content to play with the man. "Well, now I'm doubting your skills at sealing the deal. That seems like something that a King should address before the wedding."

"Of course she wants a baby, you vile creature!" he shouted. "She wants a child more than anything but…"

"Oh! Let me guess!" he begged enthusiastically circling the man. Finally, he came up on his shoulder just so he could whisper in his ear, "Curse."

King George stiffened as he hadn't been before. It was visible and surprising. That straight posture was how he looked relaxed? What an uncomfortable life.

"By her sister," George admitted. "A foul woman who was jealous that I chose Annie and not her. She didn't tell me until after the wedding."

"Ruthless sister," he commented, flopping down into the chair by the fire and putting his feet up on the ottoman.

"Clearly. At first I…I didn't believe it, I would never have assumed her sister capable, but after all these years, I've come to see that it must be true."

"Now that's a sister who would make a good partner." He summoned an apple from nearby and took a bite with a hearty and unnerving crunch. For as formal as he was he could see the King longed to scream at him as he had before. But he was winding down to his ultimate deal, now he was on his best behavior as he prepared to ask for what he wanted.

"The curse…it was something that was drunk, are you familiar with it."

"Well, of course," he muttered, hoping the poor lad felt stupid for asking. "'Twas a former Dark One who invented the Curse of Infertility." Nimue as a matter of fact. She been a very…sexual being, in her time. But she'd had the good sense to be sure she wouldn't reproduce. A blessing on the world, as far as he was concerned. The spell was so simple any witch of even the mildest magic could do it. And once it was added to a drink just one sip would do the job. And a very good job it did. Odd…since Nimue, no Dark One had ever had a child…perhaps that was something that could be passed down through the curse. He hadn't even thought of that before he and Cora made their deal. Maybe it was lucky she hadn't taken it.

"So, you must know if it has a cure!"

He smiled as he tossed the rest of the apple into the fire. "None that is readily known." There were a few suspicions on how it could be cured, but there were no easy answers. Most of those involved gruesome sacrifices no person who ever wanted a child would be able to accomplish or healing waters that almost always had guardians. Better infertile than dead.

"That's absurd!" George sneered. "The Dark One who invented it didn't make note of how to reverse the spell?"

"Afraid not."

"Ridiculous! What kind of being does such a thing?"

He rose to his feet again, feeling, for the first time in nearly one hundred years, the voice on Nimue laughing in his skull. "Well, it was meant to be permanent," he explained with obvious gentility as if he was explaining something as simple as why the sun came up in the morning to a toddler. "Knowing how to reverse the spell kind of defeats the purpose of placing it…"

A rogue muscle twitched in his jaw. "Annie always said it never mattered, but…it matters."

"But of course!" he declared. To a woman it may matter differently than a man and to a pair of royals it would matter differently than it would for peasants. Everything mattered. The trick was knowing why. "Without a Prince of your own who shall ever inherit the Kingdom? Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you have a cousin! Weak, little man; short, pale, balding…"

There went that muscle again; twitch, twitch, twitching away at the suggestion. Yes, suddenly, he understood the significance of that rope he'd seen that was tied from Queen Eva's womb to his head. That was all this was bound to be for him, a matter of the mind, not the heart. As a father, it pained him to know such a child would grow up with a man such as this, but as the Dark One, it comforted him to know the child would be fed, clothed, and well cared for and loved by all others. False Prince or not, he'd be a Prince, and that came with benefits.

"Tell you what…" he muttered as he began circling. "I've got a solution to your little problem…"

"A cure? We'll try anything!"

"Oh, no, no, no, certainly not! But you know, there is more than one way to have a baby, dearie." He stopped spinning and finally came to rest right in front of George, prepared to do business the proper way. Only the poor King looked nothing but confused. "Oh, well, perhaps I should say there is more than one way to 'acquire' a baby."

He brows suddenly furrowed together. "You mean steal one?"

"Steal?! No, no, no, of course not! I'm no Black Fairy! I'm not a monster! I am simply a man of deals and trades; one thing, for another."

"So…you would make a deal, convince a family to turn over their own baby…I'm not looking for a child, Rumpelstiltskin, I need a newborn, someone to raise and bring up without any knowledge of his true origins."

He gave a small bow of acknowledgment. "And so you shall have it. I do agree with you. Children with memories would make for a very risky deal in this case."

"But who would do such a thing, who would hand over their own flesh and blood for mere trinkets?"

Ah…the minds of the royal. They had all the intelligence in the world, but none of the understanding of the world. "Anyone will do anything when you're desperate enough," he admitted. "Leave the details to me. You'll have the child you seek…"

And the one that he needed him to have.

"About the payment…"

"So glad you mentioned it!" he cried suddenly excited once more. "For if you are summoning me, you must know, all magic does come with a price! And it's always such an ignoble thing to have to bring it up myself."

"I understand the cost. I also think that I have an idea of what will suffice. But it will be a fair amount of time until it can be prepared."

He narrowed his eyes. No payment? "Well, it would be a fair amount of time before I could procure a child, then," he challenged.

The King didn't bat an eye. "So we're in agreement then?"

He was almost speechless. They hadn't actually come to an agreement. He never agreed to anything without knowing what exactly he'd be getting in return, but…he could see the King wanted to keep it secret, perhaps on the off chance he couldn't get what he needed. And this wasn't like an ordinary deal. This was a deal for Bae. He knew whatever it was would work in the end and get him one step closer to seeing his son. Whatever he offered would be fine, but he couldn't let him know that. Allow one royal some leeway, and suddenly they'd all want it.

"So much mystery…" he commented, tapping his fingers together as he stared. "I don't ordinarily agree to a deal without knowing the reward-"

"I'll make it worth your while," George pressed. As he thought…the King didn't want to tell him. Well then, in that case, he'd take the price out in trade, after all it wasn't just an ordinary baby that he needed to procure but the right baby. He had a feeling he knew where to look but also had a feeling that now wasn't the time. If time was the key, then so be it.

"You've intrigued me, Sir. You have…" as he stepped forward he moved his fingers at the side of his head, a useless motion to him but magical enough that it allowed him to focus, to pick out the Seer's voice, to think about the child, and to find the number associated with it. _Three._

"Three years!" he declared.

The King's eyes went wide, and while he was able to contain his shock enough that he didn't drop his jaw like a dog, his mouth did open a bit.

"Three years! That's absurd! That's-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" he replied, waving a finger in front of him. "I could always make it four." A gamble. His heart raced as he offered it, knowing that four years wasn't right. It was a sign of his nerves that he began to think of ways, loopholes to get around that all the while hoping the King would be silent on the matter. He was. "We all have our burdens, your wife's is infertility, mine is my own, and yours is time. We'll call it interest on whatever it is you owe me."

The King narrowed his gaze and straightened once more. The muscle in his jaw twitched. He was a very unhappy king, indeed. But if he could wait over a hundred years to see Baelfire, then he could wait three years for an heir.

"You better be as good as they say you are, Dark One."

He smiled. "Better, Dearie, much better. You have three years until I return with your child. Be sure to have everything ready or else…well…you are not the only couple desperate to have a child."

"What'll I tell my wife? The Kingdom?"

He let out a giddy laugh. He loved details that weren't his concern. "What you will…I'm sure you'll come up with something!"

"You won't help me?"

"I'm already helping you! Helping you lie to your wife isn't part of our bargain!" At that, he swept into a long, extended bow. "Three years, Your Majesty!"

Then he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Whoa! Wait a second Treatian, Snow White is already born, but we're three years away from David being born?! Seriously? You got it wrong!" Nope. I did not. Yes, shocking I know, I hadn't realized it myself until I began writing but it's completely true. Snow is older than David and in a somewhat significant way. How do we know that? Rumple's crystal ball. I know, it seems kind of strange, but if you follow the timeline, you can't deny it. When Regina rescues Snow and marries her father Snow is 10. After Regina is married she starts working with Rumple on her magic and it is during one of those lessons that Jefferson brings Rumple the crystal ball. It is then with that same crystal ball that Rumple helps David's Dad find James when the boys look to be about 6. There is no way that it works any other way than for Snow to be older than David. Otherwise, he'd have to use the crystal ball before he got it. So, keep that shocker in mind as we go forward. Snow White is a cougar. Get it, girl.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. This one makes me super nervous. Not because I'm worried about it, but because right up until I wrote it I could have sworn we saw this scene in the show. I was convinced that we saw George and Rumple make the deal for the boys on the show. But I searched and couldn't find the clip, I researched and couldn't find any evidence that we saw it, I rewatched several episodes with James and David and George expecting to see it...and never did. One would think that would be enough, but it's still got me nervous. So I'm hoping that no one comes back saying "we saw that clip in episode X." If you find it, I'll obviously have to rewrite this chapter and a few other things. Fingers crossed. Peace and Happy Reading!


	36. The Dragon Before

He could remember being eager, wanting, hoping, and praying so hard that Milah would have a baby. He remembered thinking it felt like an eternity. There was little doubt in his mind that to King George and his wife Annabelle three years would feel like an eternity, of course, that was only if he chose to tell his beloved wife. If he hadn't, well, then it would probably feel even longer. For him, however, three years could pass by in the blind of an eye. Three years to him was nothing but a strike of lightning.

Yes, he knew where to get the twin from. As the years had passed, he'd gained some sense of what the prophecy he was following meant and had a little bit of control over his power of foresight when he concentrated. Every time another step became illuminated he'd garnered insight from what was once nothing but a jumble of images and phrases and feelings. While there were many things, the brown-haired woman in his bed, for example, that were mysteries to him, for the most part, he understood the things it meant. Long ago, his power had led him to two pieces of property. One was a sheep farm; another was the home of a girl. Neither family was familiar to him, and yet every time he'd visited in his search, he'd had the feeling that he was right where he needed to be. In the end, the girl he'd encountered had given birth to Cora, who had given birth to Regina, who would cast the curse all because of a hatred for Snow White, who would marry the False Prince and give birth to the Savior, the Swan. Other than the Swan, who certainly would not be born for a long time, there was only one more player left, and every time he wandered back to that sheep farm, his confidence grew. This was the family that the False Prince would be born to.

They were a young couple, but otherwise fairly unremarkable. Like a million other terrible fathers, the husband already had a penchant for drinking, and the wife had a skill of looking the other way until it got bad and they fought. Things would get better for a while, until the next bill came, and then the cycle began all over again. They were not rich, not in the least at least not from what he gathered. He wouldn't say they were dirt poor either, they had enough to support themselves and a farm and perhaps a child, but two children? No. And that was where he saw his opening.

Nine months before he was due back to King George, he visited the farm, knowing without a doubt it had to happen soon. Sure enough, when he extended his magic over the sleeping woman, he sensed not one, not two, but three heartbeats within her. All according to plan. He frequently returned in those next few months. A little magic here and little there. It assured that the children would be in a state profitable for him when the time came but wouldn't damage them entirely. After all, he needed the False Prince, whichever it would be, to live well into adulthood. He needed to be healthy for that. Underdeveloped lungs were the perfect beginning. It assured they would develop nicely with time but would make the children weak and susceptible to his ultimate plan. A plan he finally enacted on the very day of their birth.

The babes were but newborns, and after watching the farm for an extended period of time, he saw that while they weren't in the best of places financially, they wouldn't be ready to take the deal yet. They needed a couple of months before they were "there" and, perhaps, a little…persuasion. In the dark of the night, as mother slept in recovery and father was slumped in the chair after celebrating too much with a drink, he stood by the bassinets and pulled a bottle from his pocket. Inside was a golden liquid. If drunk, it would be fatal almost instantly but if inhaled…the poison would take some time to do its work. It would be nearly a month until they even saw signs, and with their weak lungs, it would easily be fatal after three months. Of course, he planned to intervene before then. This wasn't something that was so rare a doctor might be able to diagnose it and provide medication for, but cure required the scales of a dragon and thus was very expensive. They'd never be able to afford it to save their sons. Not without persuasion. In a few months, his deal would be up with the King. As always, the prophecy would be perfectly timed.

He smiled as he uncorked the bottle and held his own breath. Nothing could hurt him, of course, but it still smelled foul. He held it to their noses and watched as they helplessly breathed the junk into themselves. Then closed the bottle. David and James…which would it be? The future hadn't yet revealed itself on that matter. Sometimes the name that came to mind was David sometimes it was James, and he could only assume that meant that the fates hadn't decided yet who would be the lucky twin and who would be the unlucky one. It was no matter. In a couple of months, he'd be back. There was plenty to keep him busy until the time came.

He had his mirrors set, focused around the house on different places, and individuals he liked to keep track of.

Regina at thirteen was quite the horsemen…or horsewoman, he supposed. Not much had changed since her first horse, to be honest. Her father doted upon her while her mother chastised her for wearing pants too often and not mastering her dancing. As far as Henry and Cora were concerned, he smiled a little every time they looked at each other, and he saw no love. It was nothing but indifference from Cora and on Henry's side disappointment. One decision and everything had been poisoned against her. It was fitting.

Snow White continued to grow. At five years old she was not nearly as invested in riding as Regina had been, but then again, their situations were different. Snow White had the weight of a future Kingdom on her shoulders even at such a tender age; especially since it looked as though her father and mother would never produce another baby. With no chance for a boy, he was aware that every time he looked upon the girl with chubby cheeks and a wide smile she was a future Queen but only in this world, not the next. In the next, she'd be a mother. Both the Swan's parents had been born now, and he couldn't wait to see just how that would play out in a couple of decades.

But spying wasn't the only thing he was doing. He still enjoyed the art of the deal. It was something simple that broke up the monotonous ramblings of endless days and nights. He'd begun to create something of a stockpile, common spells that he was frequently asked for. He had a few clients that were regulars now, a few he often traded with, and he kept their orders well stocked as well. Of course, every now and then, there always came a surprise that got him giddy and excited. People did have a tendency to stop by the castle, constantly looking for something or other. His rooms were nearly stuffed with objects and artifacts now of things he was intrigued with and things he didn't truly need but meant something to the individual surrendering it and therefore thrilled him to possess. Visitors come constantly. His only relief was in the Winter when it was too cold to venture outside, and the snow was often so thick it made the journey a perilous one. Only fools risked that. In truth, he often found himself gone in Winter. He didn't feel cold anymore, not like humans did, but even he acknowledged that there were simply not enough fireplaces in existence that could heat that place when the snow fell. It was in the months of Winter that he often found himself seeing to business outside of his home…as he was now.

Her name was Maleficent. And she was special. Very special. It was obvious to him when they first met that she didn't think he knew who she was, but naturally he did. To begin with, he'd been spying on Cora since he'd been banished from her property; he knew that for a short time the pair had been friendly. But in the last couple of years, the relationship seemed to have come to a close. Still, it was through that former relationship that he knew that the women possessed strong magic. He'd seen them talking passing spell books to one another, trading secrets. She was a rare witch, much older than she appeared, but she'd taken an interest in Cora at least for a while, it was his suspicion for a while that she'd become Cora's new teacher in his absence.

In addition, it was impossible to look at her and not know what she was in addition to "who". The species that called themselves simply "Dragons" were rare, and it was a good thing too. Born magical, no one wanted those creatures to reproduce easily. Dragons were humans that could shift into the form of a dragon at will, for the most part. They were born not of a womb but an egg. Thick and difficult to break, though the females laid at least one egg a year, after heat cycles that could last for months. Still, more often than not, the eggs were unfertilized and hollow. However, even when eggs were properly fertilized, many times the dragons inside died on their own, simply because they were too weak to break through the strong shell. He'd only ever encountered one in his lifetime and that was in dragon form already, but he didn't make his presence known. He had no wish to deal with a creature like that. But he remembered the magic that came with it, the taste of the being that flew over him and hadn't forgotten it. That was how he knew the woman before him was more than she claimed to be. She wasn't just a "witch on my father's side" as she claimed, she was part Dragon, if he had to guess, on her mother's side. She got her magic from her father and her shapeshifting from her mother, a dragon born from a human birth…that was rarest of all. Most of those unions only resulted in a normal magical child. Not a dragon. And yet here she was. No wonder she was so powerful.

"I need help! I need an answer!" she demanded of him when he arrived at a tiny cottage within a lush green forest.

"Forty-two."

Instantly she stopped her pacing and rambling and glared in his direction. If he weren't the Dark One, that glare might have struck him dead. "What?!"

"Well, you needed an answer, but failed to specify a question! Therefore, my answer is forty-two. I think you'll find it's the answer to a number of different questions."

Across the table, she suddenly slammed a book she had lying out closed. "Is my pain a joke to you?"

Oh now…there was something more than Dragon in her. Something more than witch even. Something dark. Darker even than Cora, he could taste it, feel it sizzling in the air around her. Cora's evil had been held back on a leash, but Maleficent…her evil was a shadow. It was woven into the very fabric of her skin. This woman…she would never be happy. Never truly. Not with Darkness like that inside of her, not without something substantial to create light where there was darkness. That would be a truly rare phenomenon indeed.

But Darkness or not, he wasn't about to let the little witch forget who she had summoned.

"What your pain is to me is of little consequence," he snarled, reaching out and using his magic to choke her into submission. It was so much easier to talk with people when they were gasping for breath. "My opinion of it won't solve your problem whether it be a joke or genuine. All I'm here for is the deal. But…" he released her, and she slumped against the table clutching her throat. "If you are too busy with dramatics to tell me why you wanted me here-"

"His name is Stefan!" she cried out, pushing herself back up on shaking arms.

"Ah! A crisis of love!"

"It's more than that! I'm sure you've heard people before who want nothing but love, but this is different."

"Aren't they all?"

"We've been friends for a long time, but his father…the King is a dreadful man-"

"Most Kings are."

"He wants him to marry a woman from a neighboring country, one that can help save them-"

"From you!" he presumed, pointing in her direction.

There was the smallest bit of shock on her face before she carefully rearranged her features into something that resembled disgust. "Excuse me?!"

He crept closer just to watch her take a step back. Her hand twitched at her side as if she was preparing for another attack, but he did nothing. In this case, a verbal assault was just as intimidating. He was the Dark One, why did so many who tried to summon him for help try to assert dominance?

"Don't talk to me like I'm some kind of charlatan!" he growled. "I'm…the Dark One," he announced, rolling his tongue and flinging his arms out dramatically before rounding on her again. "I know these lands are haunted by a Dragon so fierce and uncontrollable it would take an army like the King doesn't have to destroy it. That dragon…is you."

He knew he was right. The silence that followed his accusation spoke for itself. And watching her face fall as she finally realized for the first time that she was not the most powerful or knowledgeable made the assumption worth it.

"I don't always have control when I'm in my dragon form," she finally admitted. "Sometimes I can't even remember what I've been doing. But when I get angry sometimes I just…I lose control. But Stefan…Stefan has been there for me since I can first remember. He found me after the first time I changed and brought me back to my father, we've been friends ever since! All was fine until he told me his father was talking of marriage and that…Briar Rose came into the picture!" she raged, her upper lip curling as if the name tasted bad. He couldn't blame her. Briar Rose was almost as bad as Snow White…so sweet it was sickening. "Now every time I hear that name-"

"All right, calm yourself down before we have a far more serious problem," he snapped. He'd tried to make his voice sound uninterested, but in truth, he had been seeing what she was talking about. With her mention of the girl, her hands had balled into fists, and her arms had begun shaking. But when she looked up at him, it was the yellow eyes that startled him the most. This land was a fair distance, even by magic, it had taken a lot of energy; he wasn't about to have it ruined as the girl became a Dragon. Fortunately, she seemed to understand too. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and forced her hands to relax and open again. Then, with complete composure, she stepped back up to the table and opened the book before her once more.

"The joining of the two kingdoms is important, so is peace between them, I can't do something to make them believe I killed her or anyone from this Kingdom but…my father once told me of a spell, a curse, one so powerful he'd never touch it. A sleeping curse…but I can't find it!"

Again, she slammed the book closed in her anger and he was forced to bite his tongue. Every deal was different. Every client was different. This girl made him go back to the days when Baelfire had been around, throwing a rare tantrum that he'd easily grown bored of. In those days, he'd sent his son to the loft and told him they would only speak again when he was calmed down. Now he wondered to himself if the girl had a bedroom in this tiny hut that he could send her to.

"You wish only to put the girl to sleep?" he inquired carefully, choosing to ignore his instinct.

"Yes. To preserve the bond between kingdoms but keep her from marrying him…you can't marry a sleeping girl, you know."

"Clever observation."

He knew what she was looking for. He had at least half a dozen books at home on the subject and all to easily raised his hand into the air and summoned one of them into it just then. He took his time on purpose, glaring at her in a manner that he hoped suggested there was a right way to behave and a wrong way. Calmly he went through, page by page until he found the one he was looking for and finally tore it free slowly before offering it to her.

"The Sleeping Curse."

A grimace of annoyance on her face, she wasted no time snatching the paper free from his grasp and looking it over only to have her brows furrow in confusion. "An apple tree?"

He rolled his eyes openly at her. Another result of impatience.

"It's only one version of the Curse and a rare one at that, it uses cursed trees that bear fruit that are...easily influenced. No, I believe what you are looking for is just below that. Simply have the girl prick her finger on a spindle and she'll fall into a deep sleep never to be woken again."

A smile grew over her face as she read. "Yes…that'll do nicely."

"Ah!"

"Hey!" she cried as he summoned that paper back into his own hands. "Give it to me!" she cried, holding her hand out for it. "Give it back to me now!"

"No!" he argued with a smile of his own. "Can't get something for nothing you know, I have to have something in return."

He watched the emotions flash in front of her eyes; irritation, annoyance, candor, and finally thoughtfulness, something that might have been considered bright if she were asking for anything other than this. Without a word, she turned and knelt down by the stone hearth. He watched as she removed a loose stone and reached so far down into the crevice created that her entire arm disappeared. When she came back up, he saw a relatively large brown pouch in her hand.

"Dragon scales," she stated, handing it over to him. "Incredibly rare. Very powerful."

He took the bag and opened the drawstring. They were as she said. Large black glittering scales that could have come from a fish if some of them weren't so large. The biggest one was the size of a man's heart, the smallest the size of his pinky nail. And the magic they possessed...it was familiar...

"Your own, I presume," he muttered, glancing up at her.

She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "I would assume. My mother died when I was young, I've never met another Dragon."

He pulled the bag closed. Dragon scales, not as powerful as the breath of an unborn baby dragon, but still, they had potent abilities, especially when healing was required. Instead of bartering for a cure for the babes, he'd simply be able to make his own and afterward still have most of the scales left for storage. He'd have to be an idiot to turn down that deal.

"The trade is fair," he concluded, handing over the paper to her.

She grabbed it eagerly out of his hand and was quick to turn her back on him in dismissal as she read through it. He could leave. The deal was done. But he didn't like being ignored as she just had. Perhaps one more lesson to remind the girl of her place in the world.

"Oh! There is perhaps this one little thing I should mention, a sort of loophole to the curse," he stated in a happy sing-song voice that forced her to turn back around and acknowledge him.

"I'm listening," she sighed.

"They say True Love's Kiss can break any curse, if Stefan truly loves the woman, and kisses her in her state-"

"That won't happen!" she insisted with a shake of her head. "He loves me! He'll see. He'll see once she's out of the way. I'll stop becoming the dragon, and we'll be married. He'll see."

Her words were enough to make him smile. People who truly believed in their own love didn't need to prove it with so many words as she'd just used. She was a smart girl in love, but she wasn't blinded by it. She saw what she didn't wish to see. And he'd seen all he needed.

"Well, in that case, congratulations on your nuptials! Don't expect a gift," he muttered before fluttering away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> His first meeting with Maleficent and our first chapter into the set-up of 4B as well as a handful of other little things in this fiction and beyond. Maleficent was a character that we didn't see much of, not in the long run, but she certainly influenced quite a bit because of her relationship with Regina. We remember that Maleficent gave her the Sleeping Curse in exchange for the Dark Curse, that she was friends with Cora as Regina found one of her spellbooks with her mother's things, we're also getting into the story of Briar Rose which will lead to sleeping beauty, talking a lot about Dragon babies, and believe it or not that comment about Dragons going into heat is really going to be a lifesaver toward the end of this fiction. I'm going to use it to explain something that was never really explained.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I was super glad that no one wrote me back to tell me that the scene was elsewhere and I missed it! That's a relief and one big weight off my back. I do hope you like this brief intro to Maleficent. We will "encounter" all of the Queens of Darkness before they made their deal with Rumple. I say encounter and not meet because while we'll meet Ursula, Rumple will only ever be made aware of Cruella before deciding he can use her. I was actually quite pleased with how this little sub-plot came together, I felt that stretching it out was the way to go, with any luck, as we continue on, you'll agree! Peace and Happy Reading!


	37. The False Prince Charming

The time had finally arrived. He'd been watching the little shepherd family for over a month now. He'd been watching as things had slowly gone from the happiest day of Robert and Ruth's lives with the birth of their sons, to the worst. The boys were sick. But because they hadn't started out as bad as they were now, they'd spent precious money on doctor visit after doctor visit. Ruth had spent the first two weeks of their lives trying to convince the doctors that something was wrong. Now that they'd finally found it, just as planned, the medicine to fix the infection that dwelled within the boys' lungs was too expensive for them to afford; especially since they'd needed to spend money only a week ago to fix the sheep peen after a tree had magically fallen on it. Or two weeks ago when the grain shed had caught fire taking most of the food they needed as well as the wagon poor Robert needed to take his wool to market to sell. It also didn't help that the two most prominent spinners in town had suddenly and uncharacteristically come across a vast fortune and decided to take a little time off and were no longer buying wool from the shepherd. All these things one right on top of one another…one might say it was almost magical.

The time had come. He'd pushed and pulled and bribed and poked and prodded all to make sure everything that could go wrong in the last month had and now, as he watched Robert beg and plead with the apothecary for the medicine behind the counter that would save his boys' lives he knew the time was right. If he didn't believe in this plan, if he didn't have the assurance that one of the babies was going to live the best life possible and that he was going to get to see Baelfire again, he might have regretted the stubbornness potion he'd slipped into the apothecary's drink. But he didn't. Robert's pleas were enough to make even the hardest of hearts go soft. He couldn't have an apothecary with a conscious screw this all up for him now. He had to act tonight. He was quite certain that Robert would tray again tomorrow and the day after that and the day after. And he could keep giving the apothecary the drug and remain hidden among the shadows throughout all that time, but unfortunately, a potion of stubbornness could have wicked consequences that someone was bound to notice if taken too often. The time was finally right to make the deal.

But not now. Timing was everything, even when time was limited. His date with the King loomed tomorrow morning, and he'd love to swoop in now and take one of the boy's, but this had to be done delicately. While Robert was depressed, being driven to absolute poverty with no hope of recovery or even a penny to go to the tavern for a drink to drown his sorrow, he wasn't the only parent in the equation. Ruth needed to reach a point of understanding too. In order for this to work correctly, all parties had to agree and be present.

So he followed Robert home. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed overhead, and he kept his cloak up to keep him dry as he followed him back home to the farm and then magically transported himself inside their home. He hid in the shadows, a place he would be undetected in the small place. He'd been here so often in the last month he knew all the best places to hide. Of course, an illusion charm didn't hurt either. Not that it mattered, the parents were so focused on the boys he could have stood there in a bright yellow cloak, dazzling as the sun, and they woudn't have noticed.

"Well?" Ruth inquired once the door was shut. "What happened?"

"I couldn't get any money for the medicine," he heard Robert admit. "I'm sorry, Ruth. I've failed my sons. I failed David and James."

The couple were grief-stricken, but Rumpelstiltskin smiled in his shadowy place. Those were the magic words. Failure. Rock Bottom. Complete despair. In answer to King George's previous question, that was exactly the mindset of a man who would give away his own flesh and blood. Especially if he promised him a much better life than this for the boy. That was just what a father did.

"David and James!" he pronounced, breaking the charm and emerging from his corner to make his presence known. Ruth, their dear mother, was quick to shelter behind the body of her husband, hoping perhaps he'd protect the three of them, but he'd been watching the family long enough to know that wasn't going to happen. If he wasn't drunk and could stand on two feet, it was a miracle, pitiful man. Besides, there was nothing to be protected from. He made that clear by having the pouch of medicine in plain view right away.

"Such strong names," he smiled. "But yet...such weak lungs. And good medicine is so expensive nowadays. Perhaps... I can help."

He tossed the bag of medicine onto the table by the boys. It landed with a splat as the strings slapped against the wood. Robert and Ruth stared at it like hungry wolves. They knew what he was offering. They knew what was in that bag even without opening it. It was simple enough. Use the medicine, and suddenly all their problems went away. Their sons would live, their money could go back into the farm, it was all so simple. With the exception of the fact that he was widely known in this area and now Robert was looking at him with suspicion. He knew. Nothing came without a cost.

"We have nothing to give you for that," he commented.

One of the boys coughed, David, he suspected, but he wasn't about to look now. He had to keep his eyes on the weakest link. He had to appear to them now as a savior and present his options perfectly—father to father.

"Do your boys like bedtime stories?" he asked, moving closer. Neither responded, but he hadn't really expected them to. "All right, here's one. Once upon a time, there was a king named George. He had great riches, but no son. And then there was a farmer named Robert, poor as dirt...yet he had two sons. Can you guess how this story ends?"

Suddenly quiet, meek Ruth transformed in front of his eyes into the mother bears he'd sometimes seen in his life. She grabbed a knife from the small kitchen behind them and brandished it out in front of her as if it was a threat. Of course, he didn't flinch at such a thing. It was the wrong knife entirely if she wanted to threaten him.

"Get out!" she cried! "Our sons are not for sale."

Everything was for sale. Everyone could be bought for the right price.

"Then they won't survive the Winter, dearie," he pointed out, purposefully looking down at them now to draw her attention back to them. Whether he knew it or not he and Robert were bound together by the bonds of paternal parentage, Ruth, on the other hand, needed to look at her boys. She needed to see things the way he did. He wasn't doing this to hurt the boys. He was trying to save them and give them both good lives. Two failing sheep farmers raise two boys? It was laughable! They hadn't the funds. They had enough to deprive both boys of everything or give one boy just enough. And as for the other, growing up in a palace was hardly a punishment. Together they would each continue to be a parasite for one another. Separate, they'd both have good lives. This was, what they called it in the deal-making business, a "win-win".

"Look, you can either have one healthy son…or two dead ones," with his last words, he'd glanced at Robert. He was thinking. His eyes were no longer glaring at him as though he was a threat, in fact, he wasn't even sure he was seeing anything in the room, he was deep in thought, processing this the way that he wanted him to. Robert was going to come around. He moved away. Giving the illusion of privacy to the couple to make the obvious choice.

"There's no other way," he heard him mutter to his wife. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Robert force the hand that was curled around the kitchen knife back down to Ruth's side. He saw things just the way that he wanted him to. It was perfect. "We have to do this, Ruth."

"Wise choice," he exclaimed, rejoining the conversation before he had too much time to think about it. He was on the clock, after all. It was nearly midnight, and he wanted to have the child, healthy and cured, to his new father by first light. But still, the question remained: which child? The Seer was oddly quiet on that front. It must have been his own choice.

"All we have to do now is decide which son goes to the king!" he pronounced as Ruth put her hand to her mouth and began squirming as though she was going to be sick. She may very well be after something like this. It was easy to believe after how many times he'd been worried sick over Baelfire. But at the moment, he didn't need to be here to see Ruth's response. And he didn't need to risk fate by having them make a wrong choice. It would be a gift, removing the decision from their hands and placing it into the hands of the future. "An impossible decision, I know, so let's make it simple."

From up his sleeve, he produced a florin, more money than they saw in six months of solid profit, and presented it to Robert. Yes, the pair saw eye to eye.

"Heads, I take David. Tails, I'll take James."

He offered the coin to Robert, and with a gaze that was equal parts disgust and desperation, he took it. He didn't do a traditional flip so much as simply tossed it onto the table, where it landed with a what he imagined must have been a heart-wrenching clatter. But he couldn't show it. He wouldn't show a sign of weakness now; he only kept the image of seeing his own son again in his head as he leaned over to check.

"Tails! Prince James it is!" he proclaimed before quickly reaching into the crib and grabbing the nearest infant, James…or Prince James as he was soon to become. But before he could pull him away completely, his parents reached out for him, not to grab just to touch.

"Your father loves you so much!"

"Oh, my son."

He pulled him out of their grasps easily and stepped away. A long drawn out good-bye was not going to make things better for the couple. Not by a long shot. And it was obvious to him with their actions that moving forward he had to make one thing very clear. Afterall, for this to work James had to be the King's son. He didn't know what he planned on telling his wife, but he certainly couldn't have the boy's parents pounding on the door, demanding to see their son or rumors spreading throughout the Kingdom that James was an imposter. From this moment on, the boy was a prince. Their son had to be dead.

"Careful with your words. This deal must stay a secret, which means this boy...is no longer your son."

It was a kindness, he knew, to leave at that moment, to not draw it out any longer or force them to contemplate what they'd just done. He took the boy from them at that moment, left them with more than enough money to get the farm back on track, to undo everything he'd done, and care for David. He'd left them with the magical cure that would see all that money go right to profit. He'd been more than generous.

Back at the castle, James squawked and squealed, surprised by the magical mobility they'd used, but his lungs, like his brother's, were just as unhealthy. In no time at all, his cries became shadowed by tears of pain. He coughed and sputtered and tried to breath, but unlike David, who would be cured of his illness in a week or two with the medicine, James needn't wait long. Within him he stirred up his magic and placed his hand on the infant's chest. He found the contagion that he'd left there and used his magic to pull it out before pushing more into him that would strengthen his lungs. Another spell put the boy to sleep for another couple of hours until he could take him to George. From the recesses of the castle, a room he was certain he'd never been in, he summoned a crib. Then he set the boy inside of it to sleep for the night before staring down at him.

It was overwhelming. Everything was coming to fruition, every last bit of that prophecy that he'd seen had come true! The Swan and Regina, it all hinged on the pair of them. Now Regina was around, her mother doing her best to form her into the perfect woman so that she might climb the ranks through marriage. As for the Swan girl, both of her parents had now been born. He had, what…another twenty or so years to wait? That was certainly less than the hundreds he'd once seen before him.

"Prince James…" he smiled as he watched the child sleep. "What a life awaits you, what a future. King James and Queen Snow and…"

He paused as something rippled through his body. Something wasn't right. Something about the words he'd said wasn't right, not like they usually felt when he put the future together. Having James, taking him to the King, that felt right! It was what he was supposed to do. But his name next to the future Queen's name…

He felt the ripple again and cocked his head to the side as he stared new information came to him.

"Prince Charming…you're not the one…"

And yet he was the one! This was correct! He felt this in every bone in his body. James was the one he was meant to take, the one appropriate for this deal, to become the False Prince and yet…he wasn't Prince Charming.

It was David. He was Prince Charming.

But how? How could he be, and how would it come to pass when the Seer's voice whispered in his head that they were still both one and the same?

It was another puzzle, another riddle of the future to figure out, one that only time would solve. And in the meantime…

"Well now…that's very…interesting…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, lots going on in this chapter but after the responses I got to the last chapter, I think I have some explaining to do. Yep, I made Rumple make the kids sick. That wasn't an easy decision, but ultimately it was one that I felt confident in making. At a certain point in this fiction, Rumple will trust the Seer a lot more. He'll really trust that whether or not he intervenes things will happen the way they are meant to happen. That time isn't now. Though he trusts the Seer's Prophecy, there is still a lot that he's not comfortable leaving to luck. David is a major player in the future and I just couldn't see him leaving the situation to chance, trusting that the boys would be born sick, trusting they'd be sick enough, that the family would be in dire straights, that everything would go just so...it's a control issue. You can see it in this chapter too. Rumple is the one that uses magic to smash the sheep pen, he makes sure the spinners aren't buying wool, he makes sure the apothecary won't be moved by desperate pleas. He has complete and total control over the situation for one of the most important people in his plan to get back to his son! That is why I ultimately had him make the boys sick. Control. At the time it seemed like a very Rumple thing to do. It's also why I had him have the cure on hand because it seemed also very in character for him to not let the kids die no matter what. I like to think even if they had refused his offer, he still would have made sure that the boys were cured. I like to think that's why he kept such a close eye on the family, he knew what he did and he wasn't going to let the boys get into trouble. He was just maintaining control.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter, I hope this helps in answering some of the questions. If it doesn't help, I'm hoping you'll at least be able to forgive me and look forward to the future. "The False Prince"...I was careful on the wording of that. Technically, even now, the False Prince could be either David or James. Do you see how? Peace and Happy Reading!


	38. A Door to Possibilities

By the time morning came, Rumpelstiltskin had packed the still sleeping Prince away into a small basket with a golden blanket he'd made with his own gold thread, not out of caring, but simply out of boredom. It had been a late night. When he'd checked in with everyone he'd found them all in a state of unconsciousness. Cora and Henry, asleep. Regina, asleep. Snow White, asleep. David, asleep. Ruth and Robert, up talking and crying, but his interest in them was minimal especially since the reason they were still awake and grieving was sitting in his room.

Just before first light, he couldn't take the boredom of waiting anymore and summoned Theseus out of deep sleep and into the woods where he'd already hidden Prince James from sight. He had no concerns about the dove's loyalties, but he was smart enough that to keep things secret required as little knowledge to exist as possible. There was no need to bother Theseus with details he didn't need to know, especially now that his wife was pregnant, and he seemed interested only in returning to her side again.

"Find King George's room, wake him up, give him this note and see that he reads it before leaving…and these words, Theseus, they're for the King's eyes only!" he warned through clenched teeth.

Theseus didn't even wince. Looking into his sleepy eyes, he suspected he was too tired to do much of anything other than look at him with that irritated glare.

"That's all? Now?" he complained. "Couldn't wait until a decent time?"

Rumple shrugged. "There'll be a bag of gold waiting for you when you get home…for your troubles, of course," he promised with an enticing smile.

Theseus only rolled his eyes, and in the next second, what stood before him wasn't a dark-skinned man, but a pure white dove who landed on his shoulder. He offered the small piece of paper and the bird, and he snapped it up in his beak perhaps with a bit more fervor than normal. Then he watched as the bright bird get smaller and smaller against the lightening sky until he disappeared altogether into the castle. He leaned against a tree and watched that castle for several minutes until he saw a white bird flying away from it and back to the palace that he and Mary shared. And that was that. He retrieved the small Prince and together they went into the castle.

In truth, it wouldn't have mattered if Theseus had stayed to read the note because it said nothing of value. It was merely a note that King George should meet him at that moment in the room they had originally met in. When he arrived, he sat the basket with the baby on the table and-

There was something there, something that hadn't been there before. Something in the corner. His eyes moved to a large rectangular-shaped object that sat in the corner of the room. It was covered with a blanket, and it was humming, vibrating with magic. But…it was odd…the magic he sensed from it was neither good nor bad, neither Light nor Dark, it simply…was! He'd only encountered such neutral power a few times in his life, usually in infants, like Regina, who contained the power but didn't yet have the understanding to sway it one way or another. And everything he'd ever felt attached to an object always carried with it a signature of the one who had created, which was either Light or Dark. For an object to be neutral like this, it was odd. What on earth was under the blanket?!

The doors opened just as he was about to reach for the blanket and unveil it. It was King George. He was dressed though he did look a little bed ragged. The years since he'd last seen the King had not been good, he observed. He'd gone prematurely gray, and the crinkles around his eyes suggested stress. But as of this moment, those eyes were too busy searching the room. Wordlessly they landed first on him. He opened his mouth to speak, but then…

Then the morning sun hit the blanket that Prince James was wrapped in so that it glittered with light. It drew George's attention to the golden-wrapped bundle, and his jaw opened in wonder. He came into the room, staring wide-eyed at the child. When the doors finally closed behind him with a light thud, he gave a nervous swallow.

"That's him?" he questioned without taking an eye off of him. "That's our boy?"

He forgot whatever object was before him and instead moved back to the basket to push aside the gold blanket and reveal even more of his sleeping face. It was a good thing, if his spell was truly effective, he would wake up soon enough—what a lovely welcome into parenthood.

"King George, may I introduce to you…your heir, Prince James," he pronounced with the fancy voice of a ballroom herald.

The King let out a puff of air and blinked several times as if some kind of enchantment had just been broken. He took a small step back and finally looked at him.

"Prince James…"

"Or…whatever you like," he shrugged. "He's yours, so he may be George the Second if you are so inclined."

"No, James is…" George turned back to the child, looked him over again, and nodded. For just a moment, he might have had a tear in his eye, which was far more emotion than he'd expected out of this particular King. "James is perfect, majestic. It's …it's royal," he finally stated, straightening his back and shaking his head as if to dispel himself of whatever he might be feeling.

He fought back a snicker at such a suggestion and was certain that George would have too if he'd seen the child's humble beginnings. Royal those beginnings had not been, that much was clear. But the King could assume what he liked. Nothing of the child's past mattered now. It was only the future he was concerned with.

"The child's parents?" The King demanded of him suddenly.

"Well paid," he answered, understanding the true question he'd asked.

The King nodded. "He's of good stock?"

That time he couldn't resist the laugh. Stock…such an ironic word to choose.

"Well, he's healthy, but 'of good stock' wasn't part of the deal," he explained away. The parents are poor sheep farmers, Robert and Ruth, from the heart of your own Kingdom. No doubt you've clothes made from some of their fine wool. And well paid as they are, I still wouldn't threaten to take land from them or raise their taxes any time soon for their troubles."

"No, of course not!" he spat as if it was a completely unfounded expectation. But he knew this King, he'd been doing such things for years he doubted the reprieve the family got was eternal. "So long as they don't come meddling they can have their farm. I assume they know-"

"They won't come around looking to take back the boy," he answered immediately. "Not if they truly understand the arrangement they've just made."

The answer seemed to satisfy the King once more and after a moment of consideration, he nodded again. "Thank you, Dark One," he responded with a tone of finality that suggested they were finished when they both knew they most certainly were not. "The years have been long, but you have delivered just as you promised. You have my gratitude."

"Well, that's lovely, dearie, but 'gratitude' doesn't satisfy a debt," he laughed as the child began to twitch. Perfectly timed. He had only a few more minutes. "I need no gratitude, only payment, or else…no deal. That was the arrangement."

"Of course." George tore himself away from James and walked over to none other than the strange object in the corner. He grabbed hold of the blanket, gave a small tug, and when the covering fell away, he found he was looking into a mirror. If it had been humming while it was behind the blanket, now it was absolutely singing with power, strong magical power. But natural, neutral power. He knew even before he explained it that it would most certainly be an adequate payment.

"It's a portal," George explained. "To a realm called 'Wonderland.'"

His heart had momentarily stopped when he'd heard the word portal, but at the word of its destination, he fought to maintain his composure so the King wouldn't see how disappointed he was. A portal was precisely what he would have needed, but one to Wonderland, he was certain, would never get him to the realm he needed. It was here or nowhere else. Still, it was an impressive display of magic, and he'd learned that nothing was ever truly worthless. Perhaps this too could be useful, if only for its origins.

He let out a small lyrical laugh. "How ever did you manage it?"

"There is a man in my Kingdom, one who possesses great skill with opening portals to the other magical realms. He uses his gift to possess objects with the power. I'd heard rumors that you were looking to entries into other realms-"

"And wherever did you hear such a rumor," he inquired a bit more forcefully. That was a valuable piece of information the King found himself in possession of. A piece of information he very much so wanted to discover as there were only so few people in the world that knew that. Two, to be precise. If the King were a lesser man, and the Seer wasn't telling him to spare him, he'd have killed him over that information.

"My spies are my own," the King informed him. "And I think you'll find that information wasn't part of our deal."

He sneered. No. It wasn't. But he could guess. Cora knew, she probably would have been his first choice, but the truth was that he didn't think she would have told simply because that would have meant admitting to an affair she'd had behind her Prince's back. He'd seen how she was dealing with Regina, trying to move her up the ranks, pushing her to be more than she was. She wasn't likely to sully Regina's chances by letting anything about him slide, especially when she'd worked so hard to be sure his name was never uttered on their property. If Henry ever found out, she'd be fearful that he'd want to discuss it privately and that risked breaking the protective seal over their estate.

That left only the Blue Star. Yes, that was far more likely. The dealing of infants was a very dark trade indeed. No doubt the good King had first sought out the righteous path. There was a certain fairy that he'd often seen attached to the family, not the Blue Fairy, but rather another one of Gold. Probably he'd talked to a certain fairy of whom they were both acquainted, and she'd turned him down before he came crawling to him. Lucky.

"It's only a one-way ticket," George commented, bringing him out of his stupor and back to the mirror. "You can go through, but you cannot return. The maker said he didn't have enough magic for a two-way portal."

And there was the information he found himself truly interested in. The maker of such a fine piece of magic. Wizard? Realm jumper?

"And who is this man who has crafted such a gift?"

"A nobody, or at least he would be if not for this gift. He was born with the ability to make portals out of everyday objects, but he doesn't usually work with the gift. He calls it a danger and prefers to live a quiet life."

Was that so?

"Yet, you were able to convince him," he pointed out.

"He's an old man now," the King sighed as he looked the mirror over. "His son and his wife have only just passed, and he's come into possession of their child. He makes a decent living for himself as a clockmaker but add that grandson to his plate, and he was suddenly very agreeable to crafting me what I needed."

For the right price of course... It appeared that King George had been making deals of his own. It was no concern of his from here. Obviously, the King wouldn't give him a name as he hoped, but he'd given him enough information that he was certain he could locate this man and question his abilities himself. As for the mirror…it wasn't exactly a one-way ticket, for the right person it would be, and for the wrong person, it wouldn't be. It all depended on the traveler, that much he could feel. There was more to this magic than it seemed. Loopholes were always a wonder.

"I have decided the payment is sufficient, just as you promised," he declared, reaching his hand out toward the King. He hesitated, but eventually took it and shook it. With a wave of his hand, the mirror vanished, back to a spot in his castle until he could figure out what to do with it and as far as the King went…

"Our business is concluded. Enjoy your heir…summon me should a problem ever arise!" he laughed before he disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted consistency in this fiction. And, I suppose I also wanted to make the Dark One a little bit humble, less "all-powerful" and more "cursed". There are places that Rumple does go while he's in the Enchanted Forest and then there are places that seem beyond his reach unless he had help. I didn't like that. And it did dawn on me that though he goes to other realms we never actually saw him get to any of them on his own. So I have created a little storyline that explains some of how he moves around from relam to realm in this fiction that carries with it consistency. Of course, we won't meet the person who is going to help him with that for another couple of chapters, but oh my...he's coming! Gee! I wonder who the grandson of a great portal maker could be?! And wouldn't it be strange if the portal maker saved the greatest most diverse portal he ever made for his grandson?! Oh my...I wonder who it is?! ;)
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. This is the last we see of George and James for a little while. I hope it wraps everything up nicely. This was also a scene I could have sworn we'd seen but I checked and checked and couldn't find it so again, the fingers are crossed that you don't write me back and tell me I got it wrong. Only two more chapters left in this section (see, I told you it would be short). We're using them both to finish up a couple of open storylines before we move on. Let's move on to the next chapter where we will see how one character's "happy ending" turned out! Peace and Happy Reading!


	39. The Dragon After

Cora was up to something, but it was difficult to tell what it was exactly. He'd noticed of late that she was becoming increasingly paranoid, hanging blankets and clothes over the mirrors just as he'd taught her to as if she was trying to keep someone from watching her. She'd done it in her own private offices and studies, even in her bedroom and the place she kept her magic. Was it paranoia? A lucky guess? Or had he gotten sloppy and used the wrong spell one night, allowing himself to be seen in the mirror. Whatever the reason, for great chunks of her day, his view was often hindered. In the place where she practiced her magic, his only saving grace was that the red cloth she'd placed over one of her mirrors was thin. He couldn't see everything, but he could make out outlines and tinted colors. She was working with something. Something long with two colors, one dark and one light. But he couldn't make out much more than that. He'd tried looking through the cauldron, but she'd cast some kind of spell to block the sight from him. Certainly suspicious.

Fortunately for him, her paranoia only extended so far, and he had a clear picture into most of the rest of the house, from Regina or from Henry. His vision of them remained just as clear as his vision of all the other players in his little game. David, James, Snow White, and Regina…all still came in clear. And because he could see Regina, he could see the effects Cora had on her. They weren't good. Cora was suddenly devoted to taking her daughter away from the estate. At sixteen she was eligible for marriage and he watched time after time as Cora dressed the girl up in lavish clothes, twisted her hair up into fancy knots, and then paraded her in front of eligible men that were hardly "young". To her it was all about status. It was about finding someone higher up in the food chain than Cora was, closer to the grasp of Queen than she ever would be, and getting Regina there.

But with the age of sixteen came much more than eligibility for marriage. There was also rebellion. And Regina was good at it. He'd been right, Cora's nagging and heartlessness had an obvious effect on Regina. She hated her mother that came in clearly through the mirrors. Her father was her favorite parent and often let her be just who she wanted to be, but he was just as much a pushover in his old age as he'd been in his young age, kowtowing to whatever Cora wanted for their daughter. But as she grew Regina was coming to speak her mind, to show an interest in sneaking off when her mother wasn't looking. Though the art lessons she'd convinced her mother she needed looked harmless and innocent enough, he could see the way that Regina smiled every time she was in her tutor's presence.

Regina was good at rebellion, but unfortunately, Cora was better-an old pro.

He'd watched the scene from the cauldron that morning as the tutor had touched Regina, innocently enough to show her a painting technique if his assumptions were correct, and Cora had thrown him out, devasting Regina. And while Regina was getting very good at sneaking out, Cora had her spies everywhere. The girl was never alone. Recently he'd watched as she'd taken a heart from a young woman Regina had been spending some time with. He was almost positive that Regina had no idea the girl was a slave to her mother. Now, everywhere that Regina went, her mother was almost always there in some form. Including the upcoming ball at King Leopold's castle.

Snow White, Regina, Queen Eva, and Cora all in one place together…that was something he had to watch.

But sometimes plans could go awry. And on the night, as he'd sat in front of the mirror with a small bowl of soup watching the party, he felt a familiar tug in his chest. One of desperation but also power. A power that he recognized. It was strong but ignorable and yet…the party was just starting, people were only just starting to arrive, and Snow White had already been sent to bed. He wasn't happy about it, but in the end, he was forced to admit it was his own curiosity that forced him to answer the call. And when he did, he was glad he had.

Maleficent's home was nothing like it was before. The lush green forest was gone, the ground smoldered and crumbled as if...as if set on fire. He sensed magic, her magic. His body tingled in warning as he drew his power into him for extra protection. What had happened?

It was nearly black inside the cottage, but he could still see the woman he met there sparkled, dripped in jewels and glitter. But her hair hung in lifeless clumps from her head. And her eyes, they were dark, nearly black from where makeup ran down her cheeks. Maleficent had been crying.

"This!" she screeched, throwing a piece of paper at him the moment they locked eyes gazes. "This apple tree! A poisoned apple, the one you told me would take too much time, will it work?!" she demanded. Her voice was choked, crazy. Her eyes were wild though it was difficult to see them with how contorted her face was. She was trying to hold back tears, but only marginally successful.

The last time he'd seen Maleficent, her power had been undeniable, just as it was now. She'd been upset then too, angry. This kind of upset didn't come close to that.

"What happened?" he questioned, trying to piece together what was going on. It had been over a year since he'd seen the Dragon and last he had heard her plan had been successful! Not long after he gave her that spell the Princess, Briar Rose, had "taken ill" as reports claimed. She'd not been seen publicly, but a little look in his mirror had told him the girl was under a sleeping curse. The marriage had been called off, and not long after Prince Stefan had taken a new woman to be his betrothed. Maleficent. He was under the impression that in a month she'd be married to the man just as she wanted. She'd be Queen!

And yet here she sat, in her father's house, the once green foliage around her burned to a black and gray colored char that extended as far as the eye could see. It appeared the dragon had been on a rampage. How had this happened? How had it all gone so wrong so quickly?

But the woman didn't answer. It was as if something broke inside of her. She began to sob, horrid, ugly cries before she doubled over and then fell to the ground, huddled against the hearth clutching her heart. She continued to cry.

"What happened?!"

"She woke up!" the dragon screamed. Blubbering away she wiped her nose on her sleeve then pushed her fingers to her hair, grabbing at it so it clumped together and knotted even more than it was. "After all these years she woke up…" her voice trailed off as she gathered her knees up to her chest and rocked. The result of a woman scorned. The rest of the tale was easy enough to guess.

"Then you must not have prepared the curse correctly," he explained. He wasn't about to have this fall back on him. Their deal was the curse for the scales. He'd delivered. She'd delivered. He had no obligation to make sure her hopes and dreams came true.

"It wasn't me!" she cried out rocking. "It wasn't me. It wasn't me. It wasn't me! It was…it was him!" suddenly she took a deep breath, the rocking stopped and her voice…it was a growl. The Dragon. "I've been carrying this burden around with me since it happened…for over a year! And one night I just couldn't take lying to him anymore. I told him."

"The truth?"

"All of it!" she yelled, her legs falling back to the floor as her hands tangled in the strands of her fallen hair. Her chest was moving rapidly, heaving with her upset. Her heart rate was dangerously high for a Dragon and he had the feeling that if he could get a clear look at her eyes they would be yellow. There was danger in this place if they continued on like this. "It was all perfect," she cried on. "We were happy. The King had taken his Briar Rose back and without the Dragon they saw no more need for an army. He was free to marry me, he promised he would."

"Until you told him everything!"

"I had to!" she shouted. "You don't understand! It was a stain on my soul, lying to him!"

"And now he's left you."

She disintegrated again. Throwing her head back against the stone wall and wailing with her eyes closed got her nowhere and it certainly got him worse than nowhere. This was bad, it was very bad. She was hysterical, her heart rate sky high, her body cramping and jerking. That kind of magic moving inward would be dying for release. And if she'd become the Dragon before then she'd know that letting if free would eliminate her pain, but it could also potentially cause her to shift and never shift back. She'd been lucky this time, it seemed. Upset as she was he didn't know if he could continue to be that lucky.

He didn't have time for this. He hadn't come this far only to lose his progress by a scorned woman turning dragon and wreaking havoc in the lives of those he needed. She needed to be calm. Sedate. Unable to shift.

"What happened?" he questioned as he strolled around the kitchen. Obviously she hadn't been to this place in a long while. Aside from the chilly dampness, spiderwebs, and lack of fire, the ingredients for the sleeping curse he'd given her were still in the house, still in plain sight. Including the spindles. It was as if she'd crafted the curse yesterday and then just walked off into her new life. It was foolish and irresponsible, but he could work with that.

"Stefan listened," she explained, her voice suddenly emotionless. "He sat there with a stone face and listened and when I was done…he left. He said…he said…" as she heaved his fingers moved over the ingredients on the table with precision and dexterity. Though he had never made a sleeping curse before in his life some Dark One of old remembered it perfectly. This would have taken time for a lesser witch or wizard to craft, with his magic, he was practically done with a single dose before she could finish her story. Now all he needed was seawater and toadstool.

"He said 'my Briar Rose would never keep anything like this from me' and he left. I thought he'd come back, but a week later the city was buzzing. She was awake! He was by her side and…they're married now!" she squealed. "They're married but…but the Curse! It shouldn't be possible and yet…" A small high pitched cry pushed its way out of her and at that point, her knees drew up to her chest once more and she rested her head there and cried as he poured the single dose of Sleeping Curse into a bucket with an appropriate amount of seawater he summoned from the sea and toadstool he found in the cupboard.

Well, he had to admit, her story was something he hadn't heard, but he hadn't exactly been watching closely. With everything happening with Cora and Regina he'd been focused only on those individuals who were integral in his plot to get back to his son. He didn't check in on his other deals, there was no need! They were nothing to him if they weren't part of what would get him back to his son. The only reason he was doing this now was because he feared what would happen to the Enchanted Forest if a Dragon with her power was released in this state. Around here it seemed that she'd already devastated the land. Closer to home it could have the same result and he wouldn't risk that.

"Funny thing about curses," he explained as he grabbed one of her spindles and dipped it into his concoction before moving around the table. "They can always be broken! I do believe I warned you of this when I first gave it to you."

"True love…he didn't love her!" she cried as he sank down closer to her. "He loved me! He was supposed to love me!"

As she roared the words at him her mouth pulled back in a snarl, but it was her eyes that scared him the most. They were yellow.

Without letting this get farther than it already had he grabbed one of her hands and pressed the needle into the tip of her finger until he saw blood. The effect was almost instantaneous. With a deep and sudden breath of shock, her body immediately relaxed. The contortions on her face eased and she fell back against the wall she had been hunched upon. Her heart rate dropped. Her eyes roamed the small house, suddenly unfocused and watery.

"What did you do to me?" she whispered.

"Sleeping Curse, heavily diluted with toadstool and seawater," he answered in response.

"You've cursed me," she breathed.

"Hardly," he snarled as he got back to his feet. "It's quite the opposite actually. I'm giving you this blessing and this advice free of charge."

Or at least that was what he was going to let her think. In truth, the payment for this was simply that she wouldn't take out her heartbreak on the rest of the world. He thought he'd seen a shadow in her before, now it was so much more. That kind of darkness, once it turned inward on itself would never go away. But this would at least keep her subdued. It is a shame, if he didn't know that he needed to be invested in Regina, Maleficent was exactly the kind of woman he would choose to cast this curse.

"A diluted version of the Sleeping Curse won't put you to sleep, but it'll numb the rest of you, make it so you don't have to feel the Curse of a Broken Heart."

"A Broken Heart…is that what this is?" she put a floppy hand to her chest and for the smallest moment her chest heaved but evened out after only a few seconds. With the curse now flowing through her veins she was incapable of any responses that would involve too much emotion, either good or bad. Essentially, she was dead inside. But as someone who had experienced the effects of such heartbreak before he could honestly say that dead inside was better than feeling it. Most days, he prayed he'd be dead inside.

"It is precisely what you are feeling. And it's not likely to go away, not without a kiss of True Love and seeing as how your candidate just ran off with his own, I'd say that's unlikely. Love…kills more people than you might think."

He watched as she squeezed her eyes together and let her head fall against the hearth. But no tears came. Her legs uncurled from her chest finally as she sat there almost lifeless. She may have been sleeping, but he knew she wasn't. The drug simply took some time to adjust to. Eventually, she'd learn to live with it.

Any curse could be broken by True Love…suddenly he wondered if there is a weakness to exploit in the Dark Curse. Afterall, one day, he'd need it to be broken. By a Savior...a product of True Love...

He waved his hand over the bucket he'd used to mix the potion and tiny bottles filled it up.

"That should be enough to keep you at peace for now. If it wears off a single drop in the bloodstream is all it takes. You'll find your magic duller with its use, and you won't be able to become the Dragon you are which should keep the army at bay. If you're not a threat it'll be difficult to raise desire to kill. But that won't stop your beloved from trying if he's angry. There is a castle close by here, one the Kingdom believes is haunted. I recommend that you get together what you need and take refuge there. Between the hauntings and what they say you can do it should be enough to keep them at bay indefinitely. I can't promise a happy life, but life it shall be. Perhaps you might look into getting a cat…I hear they make great companions for the lonely."

"How long until a Broken Heart is cured? When will I feel like myself again?" she questioned sleepily before he could turn to leave.

"Oh, now that's the problem with love, Dearie," he smiled. "It changes us, molds us into something new and irreversible. You'll never be who you were again. Different you may be, but certainly never the same."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, come now, you didn't think I was going to title Maleficent's chapter "The Dragon Before", leave her happily with Prince Stefan, and keep Rumple out of her misery, now did you? You know me better at this point, right? The thing about Maleficent, and eventually Ursula, is that when Rumple gathers the Queens of Darkness together the pair of them, in my humble opinion, had a good amount of resentment toward him. And sure, for Maleficent, I suppose you could see how she could have walked away from the former encounter a bit resentful, but I didn't see his actions as resentful enough, if I'm honest. So here we have this chapter! Between this and the former events, I figured there was finally enough resentment to explain Maleficent. As for Ursula...you'll have to wait a bit for that encounter. It's a bit less of a crazy exchange, but it's an important one.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, RolfB for your comments! I'm so happy you enjoyed that chapter and thought that George was spot on! I'm not sure how many of you will recognize what is going on at the start of this chapter, I don't know how much of the canon works everyone has read. The events are essentially what happens in the book Regina Rising. A&E have said it's canon and so by my timeline it fits in right about here. And in the next chapter...well, it might not be the most exciting thing, but I think it's a really important chapter, especially since it's the final chapter in the Preparation Section. Peace and Happy Reading!


	40. Regina Rising

The Queen was dead. And that meant that he now knew precisely what Cora had been up to.

He didn't have proof. Everything he'd seen inside of her workshop was veiled and perhaps that was why he was here now, walking the halls of King Leopold's castle. Maybe he was only trying to find proof for what he already knew to be true. Or maybe he was trying to understand it...

The halls were draped in black, unfortunate considering Snow White's tenth birthday was right around the corner. They should have been decorated in pink or glitter or whatever color ten-year-old princesses preferred. But certainly, it was unfair that death hung in the air, that those who had shown up for a birthday party were now walking into a funeral.

As far as he knew, Cora and Regina were not on the guest list. That party all those years ago, he'd never actually seen if Regina had met Snow White and now he supposed he never would know though he had enjoyed watching the fall out over all of that. Regina had discovered that Cora possessed the heart of her friend, even managed to get Cora to turn it over before she'd arranged a marriage for the girl herself. He'd never seen that painting tutor in their house again, but it didn't matter. He'd thought that the experience would have crushed Regina, but here she was, years later with yet another secret. He was a stable boy named Daniel. They'd met when he'd been hired to help with the horses, and after a very rocky beginning, he could see a light in Daniel's eyes that told him he felt the same way about Regina that she did him. It was ironic. All the princes and dukes, so many royals and nobles that Cora had shoved under her nose and what Regina seemed to prefer were ordinary men. First, the art teacher, now nothing more than a plain-faced stable hand. In his cauldron, he often saw the pair of them sneak away from the castle behind Cora's back and continue their affair.

That was good. Not the affair, of course, more her determination to have it against Cora's desires. Or at least, so she thought. He couldn't be sure if Cora knew or not from his snooping, but Regina surely thought that it was a secret and that was what mattered. Getting up again after being knocked down was a sign of strength. That was what he needed for this curse-someone who was broken on the inside, but still strong. Walking around this palace, seeing the result of Cora's works on another family, he knew that by the time he got his hands on Regina she'd be broken but strong, at the very least. A little more meddling, and she'd be ready. He doubted she knew he'd been watching, but he'd already noticed that she had something of an interest in magic and had demonstrated that she was capable. Now, if only she could make her interest become a desire. As for Queen Eva…

Broken but not strong. The ballroom, draped in black, was nearly pitch black this time of the night. At this hour, there weren't even guards out to guard the body, and he was able to climb up the altar to look upon her face easily. There she was, her body cleaned and preserved, placed properly upon the altar in a beautiful red dress with red shoes, a tiara still upon her head. Tomorrow was the ceremony. Tomorrow the drapes would be removed, the candles lit, and this empty room filled with mourners, but for now, he had to admit it was rather lonely. Even for the dead.

Cora had hated this woman, that much he remembered clearly. She'd hated her with such a passion there was little doubt in his mind she'd done this, and now that he stood before her he was certain. Cora's magic…it was here, on the body. His eyes made a wide sweep up over the body carefully, watching, sniffing like a bloodhound, trying to pinpoint the magic inside of her.

Belly. Chest. Head. Hands. That was what he came away with. But it wasn't much of anything not until he let his hand hover over those places. Her belly…there was something magical in her stomach…and lower. In her chest…it was inside of her lungs. On her hands not in them, small traces were still present, only touching the skin. And her head…it was everywhere. Inside her mouth, inside her nose, and…the tiara.

Carefully he removed the tiara from her head. Magic. He felt it immediately. Harmful, deadly poison laced with Dark Magic. Poison designed to do its work quickly. Dark magic, attached to the crown, directed toward the owner…so that anyone else who touched the crown wouldn't be sickened. Eva had touched the crown and gotten the poison on her hands, it probably absorbed through her skin, she'd probably ingested it when she touched her food, and probably breathed it in when she touched her face. And the signature attached to the magic…

Cora.

It was nothing he could prove, nothing but a feeling and one that he knew well. He'd been following the scent of that magic for years, he knew it like he knew his own.

Which was also why he knew it was elsewhere in the castle.

Yes, that realization stole over him quickly. A small trace, merely a tendril reaching out as if it was a pixie hiding behind a column playing "come and get me". If he were a lesser man, he might have taken his small victory and gone home, but he couldn't risk it. Snow White was an integral part of getting him back to Baelfire; he couldn't risk the Princess having the same poison used against her. She was only ten, but somehow she didn't doubt the woman's ability to want to murder a child, not when it would appear she'd just murdered a queen over a silly prank from so long ago. Small as the magic he felt was he followed it, chasing after it like it was a lover.

It was easy to search the castle this late at night. No one crossed his path, no one saw him except for a few rats, no one guarded the doors inside, merely the outer doors alone were sufficient. But that didn't stop him from being cautious when the feeling of the magic grew stronger from behind a door at the end of a hall. He chose to use magic to get himself inside of the room instead of opening the door but found at once that it was a useless thing to do. There was no one in the room, and it was obvious why. Its occupant was dead.

The royal chamber reeked of the former queen. Her perfume saturated the fabrics, clung to every dress, every slipper even. It was Eva's room, but this was it…Cora was here too. Or at least her magic was. He began to walk, intending to stroll around the room and find the magic inside of it by feel alone, but he never got further than two steps. He was close already. He looked at the space around him and immediately honed in on the hiding spot. Well…it's wasn't so much a hiding spot as a drawer in the Queen's bedside table, but the moment his hand touched the knob, he knew he had what he was looking for. Cora's magic always did leave him with a bad taste in his mouth, but this downright burned.

Carefully he pulled the drawer open, and his heart nearly stopped as he looked inside.

"Now how did you find that?" he muttered to himself, reaching in to grab the object. An Enchanted Candle and a special one at that. The candle was not one that was meant to be upright but rather tilted on its side. One side was black, while the other side was white, and there were small jewels inlaid in the center handle. It had Cora's magic on it, but she hadn't crafted the thing. There were two, maybe three candles like this known to exist, and he knew it because it was a Dark One who had forged them. The candles had the ability to save lives but only by taking another. Light the candle, hold it over the heart of those wishing to die, and say their name out loud. Then he who was dying would be healed while the one who had been cursed would perish instead. For that reason, it was called the Cursed Candle of Blessings. A blessing for one was a curse for another. So this was the object Cora had been seen working with through that veil. But how had it gotten here and why did it smell of…Snow White?!

It was subtle, but the child's scent was on this candle, she'd held it in her hand, in this room! But she hadn't used it? Cora had given it to her?

"What are you playing at witch?" he questioned, looking around as if he might find some answers. Cora had poisoned Queen Eva, then given her daughter the cure, but she hadn't used it?

It was confusing, a worse riddle than that of the real Prince Charming! And he knew he was never going to get answers because he knew the only way to get them would be to ask Cora herself, and that would not and could not be done, not unless Cora decided to get in touch with him. He doubted that. He'd written her half a dozen letters in the last few years, trying to taunt her, make her uneasy, trying to get answers from her, or force a response of some kind. All his attempts went unanswered. Although, now that he thought of it, that could have been the reason for the covered mirrors. Perhaps he'd let too much information slip.

Candle in hand, he grabbed another one off of the bureau, and with a wave of his hand, transformed it into an identical one before setting it back in the drawer. Cora, of course, would no doubt recognize it as a fraud by his own magic if she came looking. But now, if whoever had put it in that drawer, Snow White or a maid, came looking for it, they would find it. They just wouldn't know it was a fraud unless they could detect magic. It wasn't theft, not in this room. Eva was dead nothing in this place truly belonged to her anymore, and if he didn't take it, then someone else would. The way he saw it, the candle was better off with him, someone who understood it, than it was in the hands of anyone else who wouldn't know what they were doing.

But as far as Cora went…

Back in his castle, the candle safely sitting on one of his own worktables, he found himself staring at the portal to Wonderland that King George had given him. This was more than personal now. He didn't like Cora, he didn't like how much of his plan that she knew and nor did he appreciate the meddling that she was doing. He knew he should never have told her so much in the first place, and he'd vowed never to again, but it didn't erase the damage that was already done. She was a threat to him, and her goals for Regina were counter to what his goals for her were. When the time finally presented itself for him to meet Regina, and he did believe now more than ever that it would, he needed to be rid of Cora. And it wasn't just about the promise he'd made, though that would make his victory rather sweet. No, he needed her gone because she was a risk he couldn't have around.

In front of him, the mirror shimmered slightly, as if it was made of liquid and feeling a breeze from another world.

When the time came for Regina to rise above her captor, he knew exactly how he was going to use George's gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just like I promised it's not the most exciting chapter, but it is a very important one. Not just because Queen Eva has finally died and that allows the rest of the story to fall easily into place, but also for the future. Rumple takes the candle, Rumple knows how Snow was tempted with it, or at least safely assumes the details, and in season two it is that candle that will feature prominently in Cora's demise. This was a short little chapter, but I felt it was a very important one.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the chapters thus far. I felt this was a really good place to end The Preparation Section considering what's coming and there was also a really nice parallel here with how the next section is going to end. Starting in the next chapter we'll get into all those wonderful details! Peace and Happy Reading!


	41. Regina's Motivation

_"I shall destroy Snow White's happiness if it is the last thing I do!"_

It had been years, close to two decades now, since he'd had a vision of Regina saying those words, making that vow! He'd been waiting and waiting to understand how that would happen, the story behind that dark future desire! Now he knew it.

King Leopold, after the death of his wife, had been unable to remain in his castle for long. Instead of staying to face the reality of what had happened to his beloved wife, he had gone on a tour; exploring his Kingdom, visiting his allies, assessing his enemies, anything to keep him from that place. Snow White had gone with him.

As the anniversary of the Queen's death approached, their journey crossed into the land owned by Prince Henry's father, now his brother. Sensing something was about to happen, something big, he'd watched eagerly, focusing day and night on his cauldron. He'd been right.

The images were clear, the story even more so. He saw Regina, dressed in riding clothes, standing on a hill with Daniel, the stable boy and the object of her affection. He saw Cora in the woods agitating a horse upon which a girl in pink, Snow White, was seated upon. The horse galloped away. He couldn't hear anything in the cauldron, but from the way the girl was hunched over her pony, he imagined there had to be screaming involved. As the horse tore out into an open field, he saw Regina again, her face had gone from happy and carefree to confusion as she pushed her secret beau away and looked around. In a flash, he watched as she mounted her horse and then took off. What she'd heard, it must have been the girl's cries, because the next thing he knew, she was right next to the run-away horse, reaching out to the little girl, reaching out for her, allowing her to jump from the uncontrolled ride unto her own. The girl did. But she was only barely on hanging on and fell off the moment Regina halted her mare. Regina was quick to dismount as Snow tried to find her footing, and the two finally looked at one another. They exchanged words he couldn't hear, but one thing was clear. The girl Regina had rescued had just introduced herself as Snow White.

Snow was soon retrieved by what appeared to be a nanny and a couple of guards, but the encounter was enough. They'd come face-to-face at last and what a sweet irony it was. If Cora was trying to work against him, to prevent her daughter from falling into his grasp, she was doing a _marvelous_ job of it. What, in fact, Cora had just set in motion would evolve over the next couple of days to make not just a perfect storm, but the perfect storm. A storm that perfectly explained the vow he'd heard in his vision.

The next day, as Regina finished preparing for her riding "lesson" by assessing herself in a mirror, she had no idea he was looking back, watching as Cora transformed her riding clothes into a beautiful ball gown. The King entered and when he took a knee and offered a ring to Regina, he didn't need to hear what had happened to know that the King had just proposed. Regina was in shock. He could tell by the way she looked at Cora when she'd nodded her head in acceptance for her daughter. She seemed to stay that way all day; though tea with King, while the King and Snow, along with several servants into their estate, and all through dinner, where the announcement was shared. The raven-haired Princess just kept looking down at the ring the King had placed upon her finger, kept smiling at the girl she'd saved, all the while she held nothing but fear in her eyes. He was not surprised, not one bit, when dinner ended, and he saw her finally slip the ring off her finger and run into the stables, to her beloved Daniel.

The words, once again, were irrelevant. Their actions made it clear. Through kisses and tears the pair talked. Regina explained. He argued. They agreed. It ended with a small circular piece of a riding gear being slipped over the same finger she'd just removed the King's ring from. A promise. One to run away. He knew the look because he'd seen the same look in Cora's eyes once upon a time as they'd contemplated and planned the exact same escape. But as with that failed attempt, it was a Princess that doomed this relationship as well. The Princess Snow White. She'd come to the stables and seen the pair kissing, a strange sight for the ten-year-old to see given that she'd just learned Regina was to marry her father. After a few brief words, he watched as the girl tore off into the night, and Regina chased after her.

He had to admit he didn't know what he thought would happen when she caught her. As much detest as he'd seen that she'd have for the girl in the future he half expected she'd kill her right then and there, but he couldn't allow that. He needed that girl just as he needed Regina. He needed Snow White's child, the Swan! But, trapped outside of the property as he was, he could do nothing about it but watch as the girl fell along the road she was running, and Regina collapsed in front of her. Snow was crying, clearly upset by what she'd seen, but Regina…she appeared kind. She smiled at the girl, spoke gentle words to her until a smile spread over Snow White's face, and suddenly the entire situation changed. Snow White rose and turned to go back the way she'd come, but now it was fear that flashed over Regina's face, and she caught the girl by the arm before she could go! What he wouldn't give to be able to be there! Hiding in the woods, overhearing precisely what they were saying! It was lucky for Cora her spell was still in place. If it wasn't, he'd enjoy slipping into her bedroom tonight to murder her for the silence alone as the girls finished their talk with a hug and walked back to the estate with their arms around one another.

The next day, he finally used his brain and did what he should have done all along. He sent Theseus into the palace in his dove form. He watched from his castle as events played out then met Theseus when he was sure the others slept.

"What did you see?" the Dove would ask him at the end of the property.

"What did you hear?" he would respond every time.

Oh, it was the perfect set up for something to go wrong.

"Regina and the Stable Boy, they've made plans to run away and be married by the end of the week. Cora has been plotting something, though. The wedding is in two months, and she's noticed the distance in her daughter's eyes. Regina is sloppy, so hasty to get away, it wouldn't surprise me if more than the girl knew, servants, maids…"

"The girl? The Princess Snow White?"

"Yes, somehow, she knows of her plans to run away, the pair talk about it whenever they're together, which is often. I think the girl struggles with keeping secrets, especially those she's excited about, as most children do."

"She's in favor of the marriage."

"Yes, she wants Regina's happiness."

But Cora would not. And Cora was smart and observant, always had been. If Regina and Snow were both as sloppy as suggested, it was only a matter of time until…

He watched as two days later, the moment came. Cora had Snow White alone in one of the family's grand rooms. A child who had only just met the woman wouldn't be able to tell, but he could see the look of false emotion on her face. The viper was an actress, and for a ten-year-old, she was a good one. She led the girl who looked obviously uncomfortable to a sofa and spoke with her to the point that she was visibly upset. Snow stood up as if ready to run away, but Cora soothed the child, and with tears in Snow's eyes, the couple talked on.

"What did you see?"

"What did you hear?"

"Cora knows!" Theseus admitted quickly. "She knows everything the girl told her. The witch had her in a room and played on her emotions like a musician plays the violin; she didn't stand a chance."

"Is Regina aware?"

"No, Cora kept them separated through the rest of the day. She broke a window downstairs when no one was watching and placed guards at the door for the night, claiming worries of a burglary they'll have no chance to communicate before it happens tomorrow night, not with Cora aware."

"Tomorrow night?"

"When Regina and Daniel intend to run away together…Cora knows that too."

And she was far too dramatic to simply meet her daughter tonight and lock her away or even just talk to her about the decisions she was making. That would be the kind thing to do, what any parent would and should do, but a parent without her heart would no doubt be cruel. He'd seen how Cora had tortured her daughter over the years using magic against her, forcing her to do what she didn't want to, teaching her lesson after lesson to make her obedient. Something was bound to happen. Something was going to happen. Which was why the night she was meant to escape with Daniel he watched the cauldron like a hawk.

Late that night, when Theseus met him to ask what he'd seen, he replied simply with "everything" then left without hearing the words to the images.

He didn't need the words; the actions had spoken for themselves.

The couple had met in the barn, ready and prepared to go, and as they'd turned to run away, Cora had appeared outside, angrier than ever. The rage that pulsed beneath her skin only made her magic stronger, and with minimal effort, the witch had locked herself in the barn with the couple. Words were exchanged, but he didn't need to know what they were. He already knew. Regina was trying to run away, to trade her life as a Queen, something Cora had always wanted, for the life of a commoner, something Cora had always despised. He doubted very much that they were discussing the weather with such ferocity. And then he saw it; something Regina perhaps would have seen if she'd gotten to know her mother during her eighteen years of life half as well as he had during their brief few months together. He saw her calculating stare. He saw the same emotions on her face that he'd seen when she'd been with Snow White, emotions that he knew she was incapable of because she didn't have the heart to feel. Regina fell for it. Whatever she'd told her, whatever lie she'd just told, he watched as her daughter's face lit up, and she strode forward to hug her mother. Cora hugged back, but it didn't reach her eyes as she turned toward Daniel. She rounded on him, and he knew it was useless to encourage the boy to run. Cora would be certain there was nowhere to go. After a few brief words exchanged, he watched as Cora did what he'd taught her to do. Reached her hand deep into Daniel's chest, removed his heart, and squeezed. A hysterical Regina held him in her arms and did her best to wake the dead. But it was useless. Cora was to have her way no matter what.

She forced the girl to her feet, shook her, spoke with her. But Regina's eyes were nothing but bottomless pits. Her tears clung to her lashes, but she cried no more and handled it remarkably well when Cora waved a hand over the boy's body, and he disappeared. She allowed her mother to take her back to the castle and lay in bed with her eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling so that he felt as though she was looking right into his own soul through that cauldron.

There had been many times in her life that he'd watched her, recalling their original deal and wondering what her life would have been like if he'd been her father and not Henry. Often he thought it was a fair trade. Cora made her miserable, but Henry made her happier than he ever could have, that much he was certain of. But watching her that night, throughout most of the next two days as she moved catatonically about her day in utter shock, he had a strange new feeling. She'd have been better off with him all along. And so she would be.

Just as soon as someone on that property uttered his fucking name!

"What did you see?"

"What did you hear?"

"Snow White has been told that Daniel left Regina. The wedding plans continue."

Yes, he'd seen that earlier that day. He'd watched as Regina put on the wedding gown and had her hair arranged just so. Things were moving quickly for a royal wedding. But it wasn't those plans that he wanted so badly to see, it was what came after. It was a moment after her fitting that Snow White had come and exchanged words with Regina, words that had sparked the first bit of emotion that he'd seen on her face since the boy had passed. Hurt. Pain. Anguish. She'd turned away from Snow and controlled her breathing as though she'd been struck in the face. All before she'd turned back to the girl and smiled sweetly at her. Snow had cried, but the conversation had ended in smiles as Cora had come into the room and dismissed the girl before exchanging more words with her daughter. The emotions came back to her again, but they were different, far different than the ones he'd seen with Snow. For a brief moment, he'd seen realization. He'd watched her face and seen her brain work to figure something or other out before turning and speaking with her mother, who only shook her head. When she turned back, he'd seen the veins on her head pop, her eyes widen, and a sneer curve her mouth in a wonderful impression of the look he'd originally seen his vision.

_"I will destroy Snow White's happiness if it's the last thing I do."_

"Regina told the girl this, I assume," he questioned of Theseus.

"Yes, outright lied to her before her mother came in and promised they'd be a family. Regina knows that Snow told her mother, for a moment, I feared she'd do something, hurt the child or injure her for such a thing but then…she just lied.

"They're to move to the King's castle tomorrow where they plan to announce the engagement to the Kingdom before Regina and her parents return to their estate to make final preparations, before-"

"Returning, yes, yes, that I understood…what did she say when her back was turned?"

"Excuse me?"

"Regina, she and her mother exchanged words, then Regina left, and as she was walking, she said…"

He motioned to Theseus, urging him to fill in the blank space he was most interested in. For it was immediately after she'd muttered those words that he'd seen the most impressive thing yet. Regina had left the room and gone back to her own, but instead of packing she'd stared into a mirror for several seconds before tearing the dress from her body and running through the castle in nothing but her undergarments. It was nothing but remarkable that she hadn't been caught, especially since she'd run right up to her mother's office, opened the covers, and paged through at least a dozen different books with tears in her eyes. She'd wept so hard it was a miracle that she could see through those tears! But eventually, she'd found what she was looking for, grabbed a basket, practically thrown items into it, and ran not back to her room but outside, into the grounds. In nothing but her bare feet she slammed into the family mausoleum and there resting on a pedestal…Daniel. That was where Cora had moved him to. And now Regina…

He watched in fascination as the young woman who had struggled with magic thus far in her life opened up the book, read, followed step by step the Spell of Preservation, one that if placed on a body would stop decay freeze them in that moment for exactly one year. It was a powerful bit of magic, impressive to say the least for someone who had never managed much of anything before in their lives and as she looked down at Daniel's face, as the look of anger and rage finally faded into sadness he had to know, had to understand what sentence had prompted such magic from her.

It was the key to making Regina tick.

"Oh, that little gem," Theseus muttered rolling his eyes. "It was difficult to hear from where I was perched but I do believe it was something along the lines 'I should have let her die on that horse.'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the fourth section in this fiction. Again, for obvious reasons that will become clear to you soon enough, I've aptly named this section The Regina Section. Fair warning, The Regina Section is the second-largest section in the fiction so get comfortable because we're going to be in this section for a while. So if you are looking forward to seeing a lot of Regina's training and development, you are in the right place! But if you are not, never fear. This may be The Regina Section, but that doesn't mean it's going to be all about Regina. Who else will we be focusing on? He's coming at you in the next chapter!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter! They are much appreciated! I'm glad that the Preparation Section wasn't half bad. As far as this chapter goes, I am sorry, I know it's not terribly exciting. I do feel like I need to warn you though that this sort of chapter will happen in this fiction. It's a lot heavier in one particular section closer to the end, but peppered throughout this fiction you'll find scenes where I have Rumple watching the entire thing through the cauldron or through a mirror or reflection of some kind. It's always a little better when it's through a mirror and he can hear sound, but obviously that wasn't the case for this chapter. There are just times in his storyline when he clearly knows what's going on but we know that he was never actually in the scene, so I had to come up with ways to keep him posted without having him be in the scene, therefore sometimes these are the kind of chapters you have to have. I'm so sorry. Consolation prize, like I said, it really doesn't get bad until toward the end when we reach one particular storyline. And hey, the next chapter is an awesome chapter that I'm super excited for! Are you excited? I think you should be. Peace and Happy Reading!


	42. A Very Magical Hat Trick

Blasted Cora! She never missed anything, not even when it had been decades. He had hoped that once Regina reached the King's castle, he would be able to use the mirrors as they were intended, but the witch had cast the same spell that he'd taught her once again, limiting his view. But it was of no matter. Not really. She was only supposed to be there for a short period of time before returning to their estate to make final preparations for the wedding and the move. Cora and Henry were both to come live with Regina and Leopold in the castle in only a few months, after the pair were married. According to Theseus, there were even plans to bring over the bodies in the mausoleum as Leopold was building her a very special replica to store them on his own grounds as well as a stable and an apple tree for his new bride. How very gracious of the King…

But without more of his blood Cora could not place a protection spell around the palace as she had the estate. And he hoped, more than anything, that someone would teach one of the family members his name so that he could gain access when they were back at the estate!

With all this travel, the world was full of wonderful new possibilities for getting to Regina. The future was becoming less and less of a riddle every day, or at least some parts of it were. He didn't know exactly how Prince Charming and the False Twin were one in the same and yet not. At least, he didn't know yet. But he had a spectacular idea for the mirror he'd been given as payment for that deal, and even better, he'd finally managed to track down its creator.

He'd been looking for that man ever since George had told him where he'd gotten it from. He believed in the prophecy and that things would happen as they were supposed to, but the way he saw things, it never hurt to be a little extra cautious. Having someone with the ability to turn objects into portals could be a good ally. Unfortunately, when he'd finally found him, it had been in the worst of ways.

He was dead.

But his powers had not gone to waste. The rumor was that the grandson he'd inherited in the last years of his life had been given something his grandfather had crafted, something he'd put all his abilities into before he'd died. Supposedly, it was a magical hat the boy was never without. The grandson wasn't at the funeral for the man, and trying to track him down had proved to be difficult, if not impossible. Sometimes, while trying to find him, he came up so empty-handed it was as though he did exist at all. At least not in this world. And that was enough to convince him the rumors he'd heard were true. But everyone always came home eventually, if only for a short while, and that was how he'd caught him.

Theseus was busy watching Regina so he'd employed one of his brothers to watch the house of the old man that the boy was supposedly known to return to now and again. He'd given him special instructions to summon him immediately should the boy make an appearance. He was, after all, a slippery little fish. He was difficult to catch. But one evening, he was delighted to find himself pulled away from David's pan flute lesson to the home of the old portal maker.

"He's in there," Theseus' brother informed him. For the information he held a gold coin out for the man, watched him transform, and carry it away in his foot. There was smoke rising from the chimney and candles lit inside. Indeed, the boy was home.

"I've been looking for you!" he proclaimed using magic to appear on the other side of the door. Immediately a figure by the fire stuffing something into a hatbox jumped up to look at him. "I'll take that."

A moment later, he held the hatbox in his hand and felt the magic from within radiate through his entire body. Neutral Magic, just as he'd felt with the mirror. For something so muffled it must have been an impressive piece of magic. And yet, he hadn't a clue how to work it himself. All he knew was he couldn't have the boy using the hat to run off now that he'd cornered him. And "boy" indeed! He was Regina's age! Perhaps give or take a year or so. With a bit of magic, he was able to light the remaining candles in the home so that his face glowed clearly in the dark. Yes, young indeed, with eyes covered in coal like the Milah's pirate's eyes, but he was clean-shaven, not a scratch or wrinkle on his pale skin. Square jaw, dark hair, no fear in his eyes now…he figured he hadn't long until some woman snatched him up and made a decent man out of this boy. If what he'd heard about him were true, that would be a shame. Were there any bounds to the destructiveness of love?

"Go ahead, take it!" the boy challenged with a shrug. "No one knows how to work it but me."

He laughed. "I hear your name is Jefferson, am I right?"

"It's what I go by. Who are you?"

He laughed again as he opened the box and looked at the funny hat the boy had stuffed inside.

 _"Top hat"_ the Seer whispered in his head as a vision from another world came into his mind. _A man dressed in odd black and white clothes promising to pull a white rabbit out of his hat. A hat trick._

Though this was certainly not what that was for. Not that he didn't doubt it could be used for such a thing if properly directed.

"This is quite the magical trick your grandfather has left you with. Or should I say, quite the magic…hat trick! Shame it's not pointed."

"It suits my work just fine thank you very much!" Jefferson replied.

"And what kind of work might that be? Comedy? Pulling rabbits out of it?"

"My work," the boy smiled.

He let out a happy giggle at his response. Oh, he did like this boy. It was hard to pinpoint why exactly, but the little bugger had stolen his heart already.

"Oh…you are a tight-lipped one! I like that! I'm a man of my own as well!"

"Then why would one man of privacy seek out another of privacy?"

"Because…I'm interested in hiring you," he informed him.

Jefferson rolled his eyes at him and stepped forward, swiping the hat and its box out of his hands without a thought as to who he might have offended. Spunky this child was, and bold! He was impressed he hadn't yelled and hollered at him to get out of his house, which was why he'd allowed him to take the hat back. The boy had some interest in what he was doing here.

"I work for myself, not others."

Ah yes, that…he'd seen that in the few glimpses he'd caught of his business. But he also knew that everyone had a price.

"Funny thing, I thought you might say something like that so…I came prepared."

From the depths of his jacket, he pulled out a small but full drawstring bag that clanged when Jefferson caught it. After placing his hat on his head, he opened it up and upended it onto his other hand, and with a little bit of magic, what came out was five times more the gold coins than that small change purse should have been able to hold.

"Well, now…" Jefferson cleared his throat as he thumbed through the pile in his hand. "You have my attention Mister…Gold, I assume?" he muttered, raising one of the coins.

He laughed. "Catchy, but not quite right…at least not yet. Rumpelstiltskin!" he proclaimed, falling into his traditional bow. "The one, the only…Dark One."

Jefferson shrugged as he stood again, looking wholly unimpressed. "I've heard of you."

"Well, the whole land has, dearie," he commented. If nothing else, he was rather proud of the name he'd made for himself throughout the lands. It gave him hope that someone in the King's castle would tell Regina about it, but until then… "I'm the creature parents tell their children goes bump in the night, am I not?"

"I must have missed those tales," Jefferson smirked. "All I ever heard was…well…is it true you once turned a butcher into a pig?"

He snickered. "Well, I can't say I remember the specifics, but that certainly sounds like a trick of mine…though I can tell you that there is a young woman named Fern who was quite pleased with the outcome."

"Excellent," Jefferson beamed in amusement. Oh, the joys of being young and so easily entertained. Yes…this partnership had to potential to work well, even if he had a feeling he couldn't provide him with what he truly wanted.

"What…no fear?" he questioned of the boy. "None at all? Not a single little thought that if this conversation doesn't go well, it might be you who goes 'wee wee wee' all the way home?"

"Actually, I thought it was rather funny when I heard it. In addition…you said you wanted to hire me, and a pig couldn't work the magic of the hat, so I assume I'm safe. So, that brings us to the reason you're really here, which I assume isn't to talk about pigs but rather my hat," he explained with a suave smile before pulled a wooden chair that was positioned in front of the fire around to face him. He sat down, crossed one ankle over his other knee, then folded his hands across legs, and cocked his head in an interested matter.

"So…what can I do for you, Mister Rumpelstiltskin Gold."

"Oh, Sir…'Rumple' will do just fine," he commented in reply, calling forth a chair from his own castle to sit on. He enjoyed making a show of pushing his jacket tails out behind him before he sat. Different as they were, he had the very distinct feeling they were both enjoying this conversation. He was a smart young man. Jefferson knew he held power simply because he had what he wanted. But he was also powerful, far more than Jefferson was without his hat. One power to hundreds, and yet he found himself face to face with an equal.

"That hat of yours, it goes to any realm?"

"Any realm that has magic."

"Just as I thought." It was alright that he hadn't been able to take him to his son, in fact, he'd been expecting it. It was the reason why he'd tried not to allow himself to feel a lick of excitement when he'd first stood up and agreed without knowing the destination. But it was a funny thing about hope; it could jump and spark even when told not to. But now his heart was settling. Regina. He focused on Regina. On the growing resentment she had for her future step-daughter and her future step-granddaughter. That gave him hope. He hadn't expected this Hatter to be able to take him to see Baelfire, but he'd come anyway because he wanted to make him an ally. He knew there was value in him. He could certainly help him get to his son even if he couldn't take him to him.

"You looking to go somewhere?"

"Nowhere that you can take me and not at present, however…perhaps you would be willing to help me in another way."

"You have yet to state the original way."

"I seek a curse."

"Have you tried a wife?" The Hatter questioned with a suggestive smirk.

"Tried, already killed her!" he smirked back. To his benefit, Jefferson didn't flinch at his proclamation. It was one more reason to be impressed by him. "No…the curse I seek is a magical one, indeed. It's hidden somewhere…secret, probably guarded and protected."

"And you want me to find it?" Jefferson pressed.

"I want you to keep your eyes open!" he corrected. "I want you to tell me about all the lands you visit, the people you meet, the objects you encounter, and should you ever locate such a place or hear word of a curse…let me know."

The Dark Curse, he didn't like to think of it more than he needed to and hadn't in the last few years as he'd been busy making sure twins were placed properly and trying to figure out Cora's game. But the truth was he didn't like to remember the fact that it still eluded him after all these years. He'd been searching all over the Enchanted Forest and even beyond in places like Arendelle and Camelot for places of great fairy magic where the curse might be hidden and guarded, but so far he'd come up empty. Oh, there was no need to panic, not yet. Prince Charming and Snow White were still children who had never even heard the other's name. He knew there were still decades ahead of him before he had the child that would break the curse. He wouldn't need the curse tomorrow, but with Regina and Snow White's relationship evolving, it was becoming a pressing matter. He wasn't about to leave anything to chance. He needed to figure out how to make sure that curse was breakable once it transported him to the world Baelfire was in. And if that took time to arrange, he'd rather have more of it than less of it. Jefferson was a realm jumper, or at least the descendant of one who had learned to channel their power in a very different and unique way. Fairies could go between realms, if the Blue Bug had hidden that atrocity of a curse in another realm, Jefferson was the one to help him. But the boy wasn't exactly rising with excitement to the occasion.

"This could be a beautiful friendship, Hatter, but only if we let it, of course…"

With a snap of his fingers the coins that had fallen from his hands to litter the floor around him suddenly duplicated and then duplicated again and again until the entire floor was nearly covered in them. His eyes rounded at the sight of it, giving away his weakness. Riches motivated him. That could be arranged.

"Done!" Jefferson finally proclaimed.

"Wonderful!" he laughed, standing from his seat.

"Wait!" the Hatter called before he could make a move to leave. "If I find something, how do I find you?"

"Ah, well, if I'm not at home in the Dark Castle, you can always summon me by calling out my name three times! I shall come a-running! Bags a-clinking!"

Jefferson smiled as he offered his hand. "I look forward to our…friendship!"

He laughed as he took his hand and shook it. He was looking forward to it as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be my favorite chapter! I know, it's hard to pick out just one in a fiction that has well over two-hundred chapters, so instead I'll just say "It certainly lands in the top ten". But I had so much freakin' fun writing this chapter and it didn't end here! Throughout this section not only is Regina learning, but Rumple and Jefferson have a really awesome relationship that I loved getting to write. I feel like we got a glimpse of a relationship between the two, but was never flushed out. We can't blame A&E for this one. Sebastian Stan's career took off and he was unavailable to come back. Fortunately, I don't need him to make my fictions work. So I am pleased within this section to bring you Regina but also the evolution of Jefferson and Rumple. I must say, as much as I love my Rumbelle, this might be my favorite relationship in this fiction. I really hope you like it too as we go forward!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments of the last chapter. I really do hope that you'll enjoy this chapter and that you can kind of get an idea for Jefferson's personality here. I liked (and I think Rumple would like too) that he's not afraid of the Dark One. We can kind of see his confident demeanor here, it comes out sort of cocky and I think that's what allows him to banter with Rumple. Fun fact, Rumple and Jefferson have my favorite exchange in all of this fiction here in this chapter. I wonder, will it be yours? Peace and Happy Reading!


	43. The Girl in the Mirror

Another escape attempt failed. He had to admit, Cora was doing a marvelous job keeping her daughter safe in the King's palace. She was constantly under guard. Though Regina had been given the Queen's suite, the very room that he'd once found the candle Cora had given to Snow for still unknown purposes, the future Queen was seldom alone. Best he could figure, it was only on special occasions that Cora let her daughter sleep there by herself. In fact, those times she did sleep in the room appeared to be limited to accident. They were often times when Regina was so tired she laid down and quickly dropped off to sleep in a matter of minutes; apparently, meeting royals from around the realm as well as dancing the night away at party after party was tiresome. But those nights that Regina wasn't exhausted, or falling asleep where she stood, she ended up in her mother's bedroom. Where Henry slept on those nights, he didn't know, but he was certain that Cora's watchfulness was the only reason that Regina had had so few opportunities to flee from this routine she so clearly despised. It was also the reason, he imagined, that she kept failing. Cora was around her all the time, and the rare times she wasn't, Regina tried to get away. It wasn't difficult for Cora to put together after a while that if she left the room and her daughter was alone, then Regina was bound to climb out the window.

This escape he'd figured at least had a little bit of merit. The King and Cora still let her ride, never alone of course, but over the grounds she was able to take one of the stable boys with her as she explored her new surroundings. This time around he'd watched as the stable boy's horse suddenly reared up at something or other on the ground and the boy fell to the forest floor as he galloped away. He couldn't hear sound, as Cora had cleverly thought to cast that same spell over King Fredrick's castle as she had the estate, but he watched as Regina said something like "we'll get him" and raced off after the beast. To be fair, she had gone after the horse, but only until the path leading away from the castle came into view. There, she'd stopped her horse, looked around, then with barely a thought, urged her horse down it.

Of course, Cora had caught her. It was two days before she was to be married, that woman was probably prepared for everything. In this case, it appeared she'd placed a powerful spell on the property line, probably with blood magic, using her own blood to trap Regina. At a certain point, the spell would alert her it was active, and it would enchant the trees around her to keep her in place until she disabled it. The Thieves Hold, the spell was called. And he knew it because that spell came from, of all places, one of the books he'd given to Cora himself.

He could have raged at that, could have roared, but he had other things to concern himself with. For the first time, Regina was within reach. Unable to take more of his blood, there was nothing keeping him away from her except for Cora watchful eye. But still he watched. He watched almost constantly, taking almost no time to eat or drink all because of a little voice in his head that told him Regina's time with him as the girl in the mirror was soon to be ended. He just needed one opportune moment. It certainly wasn't that night when she spent time with Snow White, despite the fact that she looked utterly displeased with it. It wasn't when she slept close to Cora or spoke with her father the next morning looking shaken and nervous, cold feet, he assumed. It was a fear her father seemed to cure just by talking to her by her apple tree. But then…

That night she was left alone, in her own quarters. Probably, he assumed because she was to be wed that next evening. That could have been it, the chance he was waiting for. Alone in her room and with no one to chaperone…except, she didn't stay alone in her room. He watched as she wandered the halls, back down to the room her mother was asleep in. For a moment, he feared she was about to wake her, but instead, he watched as she pulled something from underneath her mother's pillow.

His spellbook!

He sneered at the image, the knowledge that Cora slept with it under her pillow. If she wasn't such a heartless bitch, he'd probably be touched.

Well now, as she hurried back along the corridor to her own room, he knew he could appear at any time, but he was on the edge of his seat as he watched her, wanting desperately to know what she was going to do with it, far more desperately than he wanted to see her. In fact, as she hurried along back to her room, he took himself into that castle, into Cora's room where she slept and dropped the dust of a sleeping spell over her, ensuring that she would stay asleep, before returning to his own tower to resume his vigil. If what he thought was about to happen truly did, then he didn't want anything to interfere with tonight. She was standing in her room, paging through the book he'd once given her mother. It was perfect. It was fate.

There was no sound when he used the mirrors or the cauldron thanks to Cora's spells, but for the first time in all her life, he heard the sound of her voice. It echoed in his mind, operating as a call. A summoning…

"Rumpelshtil…Rumpelshtilshin, I summon thee."

He smiled.

It was showtime.

By the time Regina had said it, he was already there and prepared to enact the most important deal of his life.

"That's not how you say it, dearie," he pronounced as he felt a shudder pass through him. One of Cora's household had finally said his name out loud. A poor imitation, but written as it was the magic didn't differentiate. What had cursed him so long ago from their estate was gone. His shackles were broken, he could go there now. Not that he needed to. Not with Regina living here and Cora soon to be out of the way. "But then, you didn't have to say anything."

He heard footsteps behind him, and out of the corner of his eye saw Regina step carefully around the table so that she might look at him. "What are you?"

She said the words with a voice that was much higher than he'd anticipated after all these years. He'd expected it to be low and vibrate as her mother's did. In the vision he had of her in the future, the one where she threatened Snow's happiness, it was always lower. This was almost lyrical. Perhaps it had been done out of fear or surprise?

"What, what, what, my, my…what a rude question. I am not a 'what'," he stated before turning off the lounge to look at her for the first time since she was a baby. Regina…in the flesh and not just the mirror. He was so excited his legs hummed with energy, and he fought to contain it in favor of observing her. She looked just as he'd always seen her and yet seeing her in person was still mesmerizing. Long dark hair, darker than when Cora was her age, she was taller than he expected, her face softer and gentler than her mother's even as she cast her eyes down at her comment and started fidgeting as if she was embarrassed. There was a scar on her upper lip that was faded and much more prominent in person. It truly was a miracle she'd gone so far without Cora dashing in to heal it with magic.

"I'm sorry," Regina finally apologized, fiddling with her necklace, a family crest, as she avoided his gaze. "I… I don't really know what I'm doing," she smiled nervously.

"That much is clear. Allow me to introduce myself," he explained, hopping off the chair and circling around. Her gaze followed. "Rumpelstiltskin!" he said, introducing himself with his traditional formal bow. Across the room, he could see Regina gather her dress up in her hands and curtsy.

"And I'm-"

"Regina. I know," he filled in for her.

"You do?" she questioned with such surprise he had to hold in a smile. He knew far more than that.

"But, of course," he answered simply, looking up at her. Regina's face hardened suddenly, losing its look of immense impression. She swallowed.

"Because of my mother, Cora. You taught her?"

And he'd lived to regret it for the last nineteen years, but of course, that wasn't something dear Regina had to know. After all, he'd been watching her all her life, but he hadn't heard a single word from her lips until now; he had no idea what she knew and what she didn't know.

"My legend precedes me," he answered instead.

Regina smiled and held her head high. "People say I look like her when she was younger."

"Really?" he questioned, restraining a laugh. He took a step closer and purposefully scrutinized every inch of her face. He supposed that she did have Cora's cheekbones, but beyond that all he truly saw was her father. Even as she played along and turned her face this way and that he didn't really see much resemblance to the woman whose face he'd known so well. Cora's lips were thick; her's were thin. Cora's eyes almond-shaped; Regina's round. Cora had a nose that curved upward at the end, looking like she was always offended by the smallest of things, but he was pleased to see that Regina had not inherited that either. Their hair color wasn't even the same. If he hadn't watched Cora carry and deliver the child before him, if he didn't sense her magic running through her daughter's veins, he might have thought it was an elaborate hoax. A false princess, like the False Prince James! But no. For he'd seen magic in her that was strong. She didn't know much about it, but he'd watched as she'd stolen that very book and used the preservation spell within it easily in her distress. She was her mother's daughter. There was no doubt. But after the way Cora had treated her over the years, he didn't think that was the way to approach this first meeting.

"I don't see it," he finally admitted rising to his full height and moving away. "No, that's not how I know you."

"Oh? How then?" she asked. How then indeed. People, women, in particular, could be so touchy when they learned they'd been watched, and Cora had been doing it to Regina all of her life already. She didn't need someone else sticking their nose in her business; she needed a confidant, someone she could trust as they did family even if it had been a long time since they'd been around. Nothing inspired greater trust than memories long forgotten.

"I knew you long ago, dearie," he confirmed, circling her. It was a method he'd found quite helpful in making his victims uncomfortable and dizzy as they always tried to face him. To her credit, Regina stayed still. "It's been some time, but I knew this day would come. I've been waiting for it," he added, whispering over her shoulder. "And I'm so happy we're back where we belong."

"And where's that?" Regina choked out as he moved another step.

"Together," he whispered with a smile over her other shoulder. Her heart was racing, absolutely pounding in her chest, and it didn't take a magnifying glass to see that she was trembling as well.

"We've…we've met before?" she finally asked, her voice squeaking in the beginning as she clutched that book to her like a shield. Fear. He loved fear. He loved to be feared. But in this particular case, for what he had planned not only for her but for Cora, who was the immediate problem in his eyes, he didn't need fear. He needed her to trust him. He needed her to feel like he was someone who cared and wanted to help her, like a long-lost Uncle! Not a menacing figure.

"Oh, yes. I know everything about you, my dear," he admitted walking away from her and giving her a little room to breathe. "I held you in my arms. You were younger, more…portable. There is much history between your family and me. History both in the past, and in the future." He had to admit that he'd thrown the last bit in there as a sort of test. What she asked after finding something like that out could determine a great many things about her personality. Asking him what was to come would indicate laziness. Asking him how he knew these things would be curiosity. Ignoring the comment all together would be stupid.

"Then, can you help me?"

He smiled. Acknowledging it but not questioning…an indication that she recognized his power, but was too focused on her problems to ask questions about his motives. Considering he needed her to cast the curse, that would be perfect.

"Possibly, yes. You seek power!" he guessed.

But no trace of amazement or shock crossed her face. Only confusion. That wasn't it.

"The death of your enemies…"

More confusion.

"The death of your friends?"

"No!" she shrieked. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

Well now…there was a surprise. If he hadn't been watching her all her life, he'd have doubted once more that he had the right child, the firstborn of Princess Cora. And yet what he saw in her face was nothing like the gaze he'd known her mother to have. She didn't even look like her.

"Hard to believe you're from the same family," he muttered aloud before reaching out to caress her cheek gently. "So…kind. So…gentle. So…powerful!"

There it was. With the laying of his hands on her skin, he could see it all so clearly.

_This woman, Regina, dressed in black with a piercing gaze; hard, nothing like what he saw now._

What he saw now…he could change all that. He'd have to change all that to get her in a position to cast the Curse. Remove sympathy, kindness and gentility were not necessary. He'd have to get her to discover that inner power that she had, the power he'd seen when she cast a preservation spell over Daniel in her rage. She had all the abilities, he could feel it inside of her just like he had with her mother, she just had to discover what she was capable of and want it as he did.

"You could do so much if you just let yourself."

Regina pulled away and looked at the ground sadly. "But, I don't know how," she admitted turning her back on him.

That much was obvious. If she knew the way, he certainly wouldn't be here. But fortunately, fate did know the way. Which meant so did he. What she wanted more than anything…freedom. He'd seen it in the mirrors and the cauldron time and time again. She wasn't ready to want things like death and revenge just yet; those were acquired desires, born from years of resentment, and if he was going to get this Curse to work it he needed her to begin with resentment for one person and one person only…Snow White. In the meantime, what she needed, what they both needed, was freedom. There would be time to teach her magic, time to root around in that soul of hers and pluck that resent meant free so it could grow into a desire to punish the entire realm…but not so long as Cora was around to meddle. And if Cora was still around for her to focus that resentment on instead of Snow White…it would be disaster! No. Now wasn't the time for death or destruction or even rescue, now was the time to get what he wanted and she needed. It was time to eliminate Cora from this world and insert himself into Regina's world.

He stepped up close to the retreating girl and pressed himself against her back. "Well, let me show you the way," he whispered in her ear. As he did he reached through space with his magic to retrieve the large mirror that King George had once given him. When it was in place and properly covered, he turned the future Queen around to behold it.

"How did-"

"Magic! It can set you free," he urged.

"I don't want to do that-use magic. That's what she does. I don't want to end up like her," Regina argued. Her voice cracked, it was as if she was on the verge of tears at the suggestion. Oh, they had a long way to go until he had the blackened beauty of the future within his grasp. But until then, he had to remain focused on the goal. Now wasn't the time to discuss what she could or could not do or what magic was or wasn't. Now was the time simply to convince her to do what he wanted. In the future, he'd need her to be pliant for his plans to work.

"No, no, of course not," he responded. "But that's the beauty of my gift. You don't have to. 'It' will do it for you."

She looked at him for a moment before turning back to the gift and squinting her eyes as if willing herself to see through the cloth. He held his breath, wondering if she would go and pull on the bow to release it herself. She didn't. She merely looked but didn't touch. He fought off a burst of laughter lest he frighten her, but if things went according to plan, that was all he wanted for her to do. Not touch! He couldn't have her getting any ideas about using it to escape.

"What is it?" she finally asked.

"A portal," he answered honestly. She was too kind now, too gentle to want to hurt anyone least of all her mother. Letting her believe it was something truly awful was the last thing he should do. A simple place she could send her mother where she would be alive and well but "away" was the best solution to this problem. "A passage between lands. This is a portal to a specific, annoying little world. Useless to me, but, for your purposes, perfect!" he explained as he paced and she watched, thinking. Oh, he had the poor girl. She was curious. And tempted. So incredibly tempted. Just one final, well…push!

"You're unlikely ever to see her again," he added as Regina began a slow walk toward the object before her, the answer to all her problems. "All she needs is a little push. The question is, can you do it?"

He didn't stay to hear her answer. Regina was already thinking about it, the clock and her mother would do the rest of the persuading for him. It was possible to oversell something, to seem too desperate to get away from it that the client became suspicious and distrusting. Thus far, he had appeared to Regina as an answer to all her problems on all her terms. He couldn't let her know that it was she who was the answer to his problems. So before she could answer him, before he could oversell his pitch, he vanished back to his castle and watched silently in the mirror as the girl he'd watched grow up considered a solution she hadn't had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was exciting to me just because it gave a sort of anchor point. Up until this point all of the previous "seen" things were sort of scattered about history. One chapter here, another ten years later, another five years later, another twenty years later...this chapter was the start of history really taking off for Rumple. And yes, there will be times when it slows down again and a year or two will pass by uneventfully, there will be times I have to fill in the blanks, but for the most part, this is the jumping off point in our timeline. Even if you aren't a Regina fan, you sort of have to be excited for that.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Always appreciated and I'm so glad that you like Jefferson and are really looking forward to him! You liked a lot of the same exchanges in that chapter that I liked too! I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship! I hope you like this chapter too! Regina fan or not, I hope you'll like Rumple's inner thoughts here as he finally meets the Curse's caster for the first (well...second) time. I guess we'll have to find out what happens in the next chapter! Peace and happy Reading!


	44. Playing With the Queen of Hearts

Sometimes doing the smart thing could be the most irritating and frustrating thing in the world.

He hadn't undone Cora's spell on the castle mirrors before he'd left there.

He'd wanted to, of course, he'd wanted to more than anything especially given when he'd just arranged! But how could he?

It was too much of a risk. This was a delicate operation he was running, and until Cora was handled, he couldn't risk anything that might tip her off that something was wrong! So no matter how minor a spell it was to unblock even just one room of that spell, he had resisted the temptation. He'd made a mistake before in underestimating Cora; he wouldn't do it again. No matter how irritating it was that he couldn't hear anything surrounding the most important detail of this mission. He was at too critical a juncture to give in to temptation like that.

At least he was still able to watch.

He'd been able to watch that night as Regina had stayed in her new quarters for an hour, pacing and wringing her hands as she kept looking and glancing at the mirror he'd left behind. More than a few times, she'd gone to it, and he'd been certain she was nearly about to pull the covering from it, but each time she stepped back. Finally, she returned to the room she was sharing with Cora and lay down but didn't sleep. He wouldn't have expected her to even if they hadn't finally met that night. It was the night before her wedding. Did anyone sleep before they got married?

It was an odd thing. In the space between, he used his powers to look into the future, and what he saw there was baffling. He saw before Regina two different futures that he would have thought were contradictory. He saw her marriage. But he also saw her push Cora through that portal and not just with her hands. With magic. It was strange, for he would have thought that sending Cora through that portal would take her farther from the King, but…what better way to build jealousy than to be part of the family he supposed though he was curious as to how she was going to end up married if Cora wasn't there to push it upon her.

He was excited, ready to see exactly how this future was going to play out…but he was also more than excited to hear it play out and not just watch it in the damn mirrors!

As night became day and the castle slowly began to awake for the day ahead, he tried to tell himself that the torture would pass soon. He couldn't lift the spell Cora had placed lest she notice and figure out that Regina had met him. It was one of the reasons that he'd been careful to use as little magic as possible yesterday. A simple apparition spell and then a summoning spell, nothing strong enough to detect unless highly focused. If Regina played things as she had been, then Cora wouldn't know. She couldn't. The last thing he wanted was for Cora to grow suspect and cast another curse around the property to keep him out! But he knew the first thing he was going to do the moment this all worked and Cora was gone.

The wedding was scheduled for that evening. He watched all morning as people came in and out of Regina's chambers, first her hair then her make up. Finally, she disappeared behind the dressing screen, and when she appeared again, she was wearing a dress that was different than the one he'd last seen her in at her estate, but beautiful and white all the same. A crown was placed upon her head, and he didn't think he'd ever seen the girl look so scared in all her life.

And there, ever-present, always in the background, was Cora, beaming as he'd never seen her beam. Her face was so bright at the placement of that crown she might have been glowing. Ultimately, he watched as she shooed the servants from the room, giving instructions for something or other it seemed until they were left alone. Cora moved around that room as if it were she who was the Queen. She was comfortable and talking the entire time; he only wished he knew what she was talking about.

Regina, on the other hand, reminded him of a deer who knew it was within the clutches of a hunter. She moved slowly, her arms wrapped around her waist as if it would protect her, her eyes wide. It was as if she was in a daze, but he knew she was aware of everything going on around her. Perhaps that was why she had turned to the balcony and was looking out as Cora rambled. From Regina's spot there, it would be easy to see the activity in the gardens before the wedding, the final preparations that were being made. It was a good place to look out over the entire Kingdom, a great deal of it could be seen from that location. He'd seen enough in his lifetime to know that this was the time, just before the wedding, when women began to fear their wedding night, began to fear the unknown their parents had tried to keep from them lest they grow too curious and go out and experiment. But Regina was a different woman altogether. Somehow, he knew that it wasn't the anticipation of a potential ravishing by the King that occupied her mind.

Suddenly she turned, and he saw through the mirror he was using that Cora was looking at the other mirror, the one he'd left there for her. That was what drew Regina's attention to her. That was what she was focusing on at the moment. And Cora…

She unwrapped it! He watched as she used her magic to remove the bow and shed the cloth and looked with sweet disappointment at the mirror before her. It was a moment he'd been waiting for, one that meant he was holding his breath. That mirror reeked of magic. If she wasn't too distracted, Cora should be able to feel that it was more than an ordinary looking glass. If she felt something was wrong…

Regina said something, he wasn't sure what, he only watched as she moved her mouth and Cora reacted by turning to look at her.

A distraction! It was perfect! It was precisely what Cora needed not to notice something odd about the mirror. He watched as she walked over to her daughter and pulled her quickly to it. He worked with a mirror of his own, long and thin, a close resemblance to the one in front of them. He pushed and pulled, urging his magic inside of it, and finally, what he saw was their faces before him. Cora's eyes raked over Regina with a sense of pride, and Regina looked at herself just as scared as ever.

Cora noticed; she would have been a fool not to. And from his place, he watched as his former lover played perfectly into their hands by leaving her daughter's side to stand before her, back to the wall, holding her hands. She was speaking to her, about what he'd never know, not until Regina did what she had to do! As she spoke, he used more of his magic, preparing to do what he hadn't let himself do in Cora's presence during these long years…be seen. It was a risky move, especially with Cora in the room. But if Regina stayed looking as frightened as she did, then the risky move was to do nothing! He needed to be sure she'd remember. She needed encouragement. He could provide that if the time was right!

Regina moved.

He rescinded his magic and watched as suddenly the moment turned sour, and she turned away from her mother. He couldn't remember the last time his heart beat this fast. Now was the perfect moment if she didn't do something now then-

Regina turned, her mouth moved, the vein in her forehead popped as she threw her hands out and-

Cora! Her magic! It wrapped itself around Regina so that her arms hugged her waist again, and her brows furrowed with anger. She looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what her mother had done…

Yes! Yes, this was good! She needed anger! She needed the motivation to do this. She was strong now! She only needed to break the spell and give a little push with what she felt!

He felt as though he was pressed to the glass of his own mirror, but quickly, as Cora's back was turned and she lectured Regina he activated the spell, he let himself be seen and knew the spell was a success when Regina looked over her mother's shoulders and stared right into his own eyes. She wouldn't be able to hear him, not with Cora's spell still in place, but he didn't need words, just a smile and a small gesture. A flick of his hands mimicked a push, and he nodded, trying to show his excitement with his own eyes, trying to give her something to be excited for.

The result was astounding. Almost immediately, Regina's face changed. It was as if something in her snapped. It was the same thing he'd seen at her estate just before she'd placed the preservation spell on Daniel, and he found himself laughing as he watched what was happening in the mirror. Regina was angry, filled with the same kind of hatred for her mother that had urged her to make the comment about letting Snow White die.

She exploded. He wished he could have seen Cora's face as it happened.

One moment there was Regina locked in her mother's body bind as she had been her entire life. The next moment she'd let out a scream, one he couldn't hear but felt he could just by watching it. Her arms were free. She pushed, never once touching her mother, but it didn't matter.

Cora flew. She flew so high into the air that her head nearly knocked against the top of that tall framed mirror. There was a brief moment that she lingered, a small second when half her body vanished from his sight, but he could still see her arms, her hands in front of him, holding on to the frame of the mirror, she was fighting. But she, unlike him, was prone to aging. A Cora like the one he'd known years ago would have been able to hold on. This one stood no chance, and a second later, the rest of her vanished through the portal.

For one brief moment, he was able to observe a look of shock on Regina's face, a flicker of a smirk before the looking glass in front of him began to crack. No, his own glass was fine, but Regina disappeared from view as the mirror he'd left her, after finally spending it's magic and accomplishing its purpose, shattered into a thousand tiny shards.

That was a deal well spent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, not so much talking here as Rumple seeing something from the mirror because we know he wasn't in the room. I'm sorry, but I did warn you that this sort of thing would happen on occasion. That's just the way it has to be.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I do promise that the next chapter will be far more interesting to read. It's a "seen" scene, but I added a bit of framing at the beginning and end that I think will really serve to fill it out. Peace and Happy Reading!


	45. The Master Becomes a Teacher

Sometimes it was amazing to him how fast women could move when they wanted to. He could have sworn that after the mirror had cracked and shattered he'd lost sight of Regina for no more than a minute, maybe two at the most. Yet when he finally came to his senses, began to think about his next steps forward, and finally summoned the image of her again, she wasn't in her room. The white wedding dress she'd been wearing was in a heap on the floor. All he caught in her room was the heel of one of her riding boots slipping out the door. She was running and yet…

It wasn't right. He knew the feeling he got when something was going the way it should, when the future was unfurling before his eyes and he needed to leave well enough alone, but that wasn't the feeling he had now. He had a vision, an image in his head of Regina back in that wedding dress, getting married to the King. The vision was accompanied by an urge to go after Regina now. But the question was how. Oh, she was cautious that girl. Using the mirrors he followed her on her journey through the busy castle halls, out into the stable where she quickly saddled her horse, his book, he realized, was stuffed unceremoniously in a saddlebag. Then with little other planning, he watched as she mounted her steed and galloped off down the same road she'd tried to escape down before, only this time there was no one to stop her from leaving. Except, perhaps, him.

Free of people, free of her chains, free of the property, he watched as she beamed with joy and then pulled on the reins slowing her horse down to a walk. She had no more need to push the beast as she had yesterday. She'd gone. Cora, her magic still very much so a part of the land but unable to do anything without her command, would be alerted to her departure, but helpless to do anything against it in her new world. Still, as he finally allowed himself to stop watching and simply take himself to her instead, he realized that Regina wasn't as set in this decision as he'd initially thought. She didn't notice him arrive on the road before her because she kept looking back over her shoulder. And it wasn't in the quick, worried way of someone wanting to know if they were being followed. It was in the way of an individual who was torn about the path that they were on. It was bad news for Regina, but good for him, as it meant that she was still questioning this decision. It was very good. He needed her to turn back, the entire future was urging him to get her to turn back! But wise as the years had made him, he knew that she needed to believe it was her choice, not his own.

"Leaving, are we?" he questioned when she turned back to face him. The horse didn't startle at his appearance, but she did. It was only for a moment, as if expecting to be caught by someone much worse than he, before the terror faded. The feeling that Cora was watching and returning would take a while to disappear. In truth, he didn't expect Wonderland to hold Cora forever, clever and powerful as she was. He didn't need to search the future to know she'd be back one day. He just hoped that when she did return, Regina would be just as powerful, if not more so than her. A different person entirely. But only if she turned around!

"That was always the plan," Regina stated as she got down off her horse and approached him. He watched as she opened a bag at her hip and rooted around before finally finding a book, his book. The one that had allowed her to call for him. The first book he'd ever given Cora. "Here. A gift. I don't want it," she said as she handed it back to him.

"Uh, can't be a gift. It was mine to start with," he pointed out. She didn't respond; just gave a look of mixed anger and amusement before turning back to her horse as if their conversation was done.

"Before you go! Answer me this…" he advanced, willing her to turn around and face him. "How did it feel?"

Regina shook her head and stood up tall. "I loved my mother-"

"Ah! B-b-but that's not what I asked, dearie," he corrected quickly. He knew how she felt about it. He'd watched the entire thing and read her face like it was a book! He wasn't after the mourning she felt or the love she had, and he didn't want to hear about how she'd had no choice. He was after that one brief smirk he'd seen before the mirror cracked. He wanted acknowledgment for that one moment of satisfaction he'd sensed within her that might create the temptation that he needed. "How did it feel to use magic?"

"It doesn't matter. I'll never use it again," she answered definitively before turning back to her horse.

"Why not?" He wasn't going to let her get back on her mount. He wasn't about to let her just run off, not without saying what she felt. It was there in her mind, a sensation burrowed down deep in her soul, tormenting her. And when she turned back to him with a look of fire in her eyes, they both knew why.

"Because I loved it!" she hissed, a small growl there in the shake of her struggling admission.

He smiled and restrained a laugh as best he could. There it was…now she looked like Cora.

"You've discovered who you are," he insisted moving closer. "You could do so much now…if you let me show you how…" he teased in a sing-song voice.

"Through magic?"

"Through many things…"

Magic. Guidance. A confidant…magic came in many forms. He was quite certain he could teach all of them. Looking at Regina, he knew that she was certain as well. She offered a sweet, tempting smile of her own as she moved even closer.

"And what do you get out of it?"

That was something he certainly wasn't willing to divulge, not yet. Years, decades even, down the road at the right time, perhaps. But not now. Not now when she still had so much to learn, and a heart that needed significant blackening.

"Someday…you'll do something for me."

She stepped back at his words and looked him over. Her eyes filled with questions but also with curiosity. He'd given her a taste of what it was to be magic and powerful and she was weighing that against how much she didn't trust him at the moment. Fortunately, he'd had over a hundred years already to understand the art of dealmaking and how to offer up temptations that went with it.

"Let me guide you," he pressed, offering the book she'd just handed him back again.

She looked at it for several long seconds, his heart skipping every other beat. He had perfected this look of calm power and authority, the look of intense confidence and knowledge and it helped him in times like these when Baelfire's face swam before him, and he knew this was a pivotal moment. He wouldn't give up, even if Regina turned him down, he wouldn't walk away from trying to convince her. The prophecy was very clear; he wouldn't risk it now!

Finally, she stepped forward and closed her hand over the book. But she didn't take it. Not then. She merely looked him in the eyes, a gaze that was piercing and held a grip on what little was left of his own soul. Perhaps she was like her mother.

"And I won't become like her?" she questioned.

No. If he had his way. She would be better and worse all at once.

"That, dearie, is entirely up…to you." He pressed the book into her hands, and this time she took it.

They stared for a few more moments, then Regina secured the book again in her satchel and turned back to mount her horse. And as much as he would have loved to let her be a rebel and leave the grounds, knowing that she was going to work for him, his vision had showed that she would marry the King and if she continued on the path she was now, he saw all too easily why it was essential.

"But, you'll be difficult to train with the King's guard chasing after you!" he called up to her on the horse.

"Chasing after me?" she snorted as if it was ridiculous. "Why would they-"

"Well, it's a very suspicious scene you've left behind, isn't it? Broken mirror, no sign of you, no sign of Cora…they'll hunt you both down for murder, if not treason for leaving the King at the altar. Not exactly a smart choice to abandon that."

"But…" he watched as her eyes slowly widened so that he could see the whites around them, and the smirk disappeared from her face. He once had the ability to look at Cora and know that she was thinking something through. He appeared that Regina had inherited that particular expression. He could see it now as he watched her realize his argument was right. "Then…then I'm still trapped," Regina breathed out as she grabbed her chest. The whites he'd once seen in her eyes suddenly turned red as she sat back on her horse informally and looked around her. She was near panic.

"Oh, no! No, no, no! Quite the contrary," he smiled, stepping close to her and offering her a hand. "You'll have the ultimate freedom if you go back."

She looked over his hand for a moment, then shook her head as the horse stomped, and she put her hand in his, swinging her leg over the beast and putting dismounting once more.

"Think about it," he muttered, grabbing her by the shoulder and pressing her close to his side so she was forced to look down the road she'd been about to flee on. "Out there, down that road, what is it that waits for you? Your dear stable boy is behind you, stored in a mausoleum with a very clever Preservation Spell you managed the very first time you did magic."

At that Regina's eyes widened, and she stepped away from his side. "How did you-"

"I told you last night, dearie…I know all about you. And your father and-oh!" he gasped, putting his hand to his mouth and widening his eyes. "Heavens! What will your father think?!"

"My father?"

"Well, he'll be the first person they put in prison! For hiding you or your mother. Prince or not, he'll be the first suspect."

"But…" Regina's heart began to race again, and he could see the tears welling up in her eyes as she looked side to side, giving off the impression of a trapped fox looking for shelter. Youth…they really never did think through their actions these days. "I didn't mean for that to happen to him."

"Oh, of course not, of course not!" he soothed with false sympathy. "No one ever means for these things to happen. But, his Princess is gone, and if you're not careful, you'll spend the rest of your life on the run. It'll be a short life, I imagine. King Leopold's guards are so highly regarded throughout the land-"

"Just…stop lecturing me! What do I do? Tell me!"

"Me?!"

"Yes, you! You got me into this mess! You have to help me get out of it! For my father!"

"Oh, well, I think you'll find I don't have to do anything Dearie! But!" he shouted as she opened her mouth and took a step closer in argument. "Tell you what…return, Regina. Go back to the palace. Sweep away the shards of the mirror. Put on your beautiful gown. Tidy your hair. Tell only your father what has happened and go through with the ceremony as if nothing has happened. When they ask for your mother, you'll give them no hint that you know more than you do."

"You want me to lie."

"To save yourself? What else can you do? This way it will be as if she's just stepped outside and never returned."

"But…but if I do that…I'll be married to the King."

"Oh, yes, true, true, you will. But I think you'll find that royals aren't as loyal as they pretend to be. And he is quite a bit older than you. He'll be dead before you know it."

Suddenly the color drained out of Regina's face as she stared ahead at him. Her gaze was no more than a daze.

"The King is a weak man…" she finally muttered.

"Exactly!"

"No!" she shook her head. "It's…it's what my mother told me this morning. 'The King's not a strong man'. That was what she meant. She meant that he'd be dead soon. That was why she wanted me to raise an army and form a personal guard. She was anticipating me becoming a Queen…and a widow."

"Wise advice…" he muttered. Regina's brows knit together in disbelief, and he shrugged. "Cora may have been overbearing and irritating, but no one ever said she wasn't smart. If there was anyone, aside from myself, who knew how to work with the opportunities they were given…it was your mother."

The girl's gaze narrowed. All at once, she stopped looking him over and fixed her eyes on his own in a look that would have any peasant running for the hills with fear, or at least it would in time. "You never said how you knew my mother…or my family…"

He let out a gasp of false surprise. "That's right! I didn't."

She held his gaze, expecting him to say more, but he hadn't told her those things before for a reason, and he didn't intend on telling them to her now. Smart and perceptive as she was, he had little doubt she got the message.

"So…that's what you think I should do too? If I go back?"

He smiled at her question. If...there was no "if" here, not anymore. She'd added that stipulation on as a second thought. She was going back to Leopold, the future he saw in his head for her was holding steady. The question was what she should do when she returned. Magic was power, but Cora had been intent on giving her power in another way. Well…a taste of one could lead to a desire for more. Both worked in his favor.

"I think in front of you, there is nothing but a life spent in the woods until the King's guards catch you. Behind you on the other hand…" he motioned back toward the castle, forcing her to turn her body as well. "Just there…is your father, a crown, riches, and comfort beyond belief. Neither life involves Cora anymore, and both mean freedom. But only one will allow you to meet the finest of people, give you time to study your new craft, see your father, begin horseback riding again…"

Regina smiled at the picture he painted. "I hadn't thought of it that way before…"

"Only one of these futures has power, power that your mother always wanted, but you can take instead, power you can shape in your own way, without her help. Power will make you Queen."

"Queen…" she breathed suddenly as if she couldn't quite catch her breath. It was as if the vision in his mind had finally made the jump into her own, and there was no doubt in his mind now, she was going back. The future was intact. He'd done his part.

"But…I'm not ready to be a mother," she explained, quickly turning to face him. "And Snow White…no one ever seems to understand just how…how wretched she truly is!"

"Ah, yes…the little brat who cost your Daniel his life."

She nodded, this time she hadn't even thought to look distraught at his knowledge as her face twisted into an angry grimace, proof that beneath her skin that rage for what Snow White had done to her was still alive and well and ready to be used.

"She told my secret…"

"Indeed she did," he confirmed gently. "Rest assured, that there is much still to learn dearie, and we'll get to all of it in due time, but here is my first lesson. Free of charge!" he piqued, raising his hands and taking a step closer to her. "No one is perfect. What better way to return the favor than to learn all of her secrets?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved this scene when we saw it in the show, but I always felt like something was missing from it. You have Regina riding away from the palace, dead set on being free now that her mother is dead, but the next time we see her, she has clearly married the King and is Queen. She and Rumple (as far as we see) never talked about going back to the palace. By all accounts, there was no reason for Regina to turn around and go back. So I added a bit to the end of this scene in order to explain her return. I wanted to see Rumpe urge her back.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter! Much appreciated! I hope you think everything flows together well enough in this chapter and I hope you'll think Regina's return makes sense by the end of this chapter. Now that you've seen how Regina got her mother gone, her magic, and to be Queen, we'll check-in on her, catch another glimpse at Jefferson, and meet another character! Guesses for what's coming next? Or should I say who...Peace and Happy Reading.


	46. Beyond Their World

And so it began.

Regina was married. And as he'd watched her walk down the aisle, escorted by her father, and take the King's hand in her own while Snow White beamed, he'd had a vision. A beautiful vision. It was one that he hoped was not the doing of his own imagination but rather the result of the Seer that still lived in his very skin. The vision was of Regina, but not the scared little doe-eyed girl that was marrying the King if only to keep herself safe from persecution, no, certainly not. This Regina was older, darker. The white smile on her face was not one of true happiness but rather a smile of a trickster. She'd been dressed in black, her clothing showing off shapely curves, her hair twisted high into a knot on her head. In her hand was a heart, glowing red and beautiful and the name, the moniker that came to mind as he watched the priest pronounce them Man and Wife was not Queen Regina, but rather, The Evil Queen.

How reassuring.

And yet, there was still a long way to go before that vision was achieved; he simply knew it. The lessons that followed it confirmed it.

Regina was different than Cora in several ways, some good and some bad. Her strength, the magic that flowed through his new student, was powerful, far more than her mother's. But getting her to use it…now that was a tricky task. Cora had had such a difficult life she'd been determined to do anything she could to get ahead. That determination was her motivation, and Cora had taken in every lesson he'd ever taught her, taking it upon herself to quickly master what she'd never had access to before.

Regina had no such motivation. True, her childhood with Cora had not been an easy or enjoyable one. But where her father, Daniel, and even her horses were concerned, she'd had a much better life than Cora. The good had outweighed the bad. And now with Cora secure in Wonderland, the guards searching the Kingdom hopelessly for her after Regina had told them she'd stepped out and never returned, there was very little he had to work with. Her father was with her, happy and healthy, getting along splendidly with the King. Her horses were safe and at her disposal. And Daniel…he, or rather, his body was a problem. Still kept protected by Regina's preservation spell, she was often distracted by that body. It gave Regina hope, and he realized after a short amount of time that it wasn't for power or even protection she was learning magic, but rather with the hope that one day she might bring her love back to life. She was wrong, of course, in many ways. She needed hate and devastation to fuel her as he'd seen thus far. Not hope.

All he really had to work with after Cora's banishment, was Regina's current marriage. Being married to the King was not something Regina was happy about. There were perks, and what came with the union was why she'd ultimately followed through, but it wasn't what she'd hoped. And how could it have been? Married again barely a year after his wife had died?! Leopold was too attached to Snow to really care for his new wife the way a husband should. Regina knew it. And she felt it as well. He encouraged those emotions, not only because he knew what would come, but because it helped egg her on now.

Cora's spell over the mirrors turned out to have been sealed using blood magic, and he was quick to convince Regina that it would be smart to undo it, but the actual act had been something of a challenge.

"But then…if I do this…won't people be able to see in to me? Dressing or…or bathing?!"

"The answer to that is simple…" in midair, he conjured a blanket and threw it over the mirror they were working with. "No sight…no sound…but as it is, if you ever found yourself with a need to get in communication with someone, say…your teacher…you'd be able to see, but not hear…very poor way of communication if you ask me.

"But then…" he removed the blanket quickly. "What does it matter? If it makes you uncomfortable? It's not as if you're not already watched constantly by the King…by Snow White…the servants even…"

"But…I am watched by them. Constantly, it's as if they don't ever stop looking in on me."

Indeed, it was getting more and more difficult for them to find time and places to practice for even just a few minutes before someone stormed in to demand her time.

"So…wouldn't it be nice to have the upper hand, to give them a taste of their own medicine? To watch the King as he works? To overhear every last word dear Snow White says to everyone?"

A sneer grew over Regina's mouth. "Show me how!"

And with that, Cora's spell was undone. Sight and sound into Regina's life was restored. But it wasn't always easy. One problem Regina had that Cora never did was time. Engaged to her Prince in his castle, she'd always managed to find time for magic. But as the acting Queen, step-mother to a young girl, and wife to the King, her schedule was packed tight. In the end, the mirrors were helpful to communicate even if all they had was ten minutes or so. The rest of the time he spent back at his castle, waiting for the next summons, plotting his next lesson…and listening to Jefferson.

He had to admit that his own education was growing considerably as well, thanks to the boy. He was becoming something of a regular occurrence in his life. He never returned with news of the curse, but at least he never came back from an excursion empty-handed either. He often brought him strange and interesting items from other realms that he visited. Useless to him or not, money was never a concern, so he bought them from him just to hear the stories and absorb as much information as he could about these other places. Some of them had such strange customs and items.

"Stethoscope…" Jefferson explained as he sat upon the table, allowing him to examine the odd object in his hands now. "Pinched it from the Doc when he wasn't looking in the Land Without Color."

"A doctor, you say…"

"Yeah, about the only interesting part of that world if you ask me. He's trying to resurrect the dead. But I don't go there often; it's difficult to blend in during the daylight."

"And why might that be?"

"Well, I didn't name it the Land Without Color for its rainbows," he retorted from his place on top of the table. "It's without color…black, and white, and gray all over, and I'm…well, not without color."

"Yes, yes, I see, you needn't have added that last little bit," he growled as he paid him for the object.

On and on, he could talk about realms far from this singular one he lived in. Realms without end it sometimes seemed, though he did promise him that there was an end, an edge. One realm in particular, where time stood still and the sun hung in the sky in eternal sunset.

"Or maybe it's sunrise? Ah well, I don't like to go there either really so it doesn't really matter," he commented. "It's bad for my health! Time moves differently in all these realms and there especially it's incredibly fast. I spent a week there once, laying low after stealing a ruby from Agraba, I was really after some scissors, but it was a nice consolation prize. Anyway, when I went back to try and sell the thing they nearly killed me again, it was still the night I'd stolen it!"

"How curious…" he muttered absent-mindedly. On and on, Jefferson could talk about realms when he wanted him to and when he didn't want to. He was attempting to test the potion he was working on while Regina was out touring the Kingdom with her new family, and Jefferson was chattering on and on by his side. This was one of those times he really would rather have concentrated than listen. "Tell me, Jefferson, you don't like Wonderland, you don't like The Land Without Color, and you don't like this Edge of Realms…where do you prefer to go?"

Jefferson stared at him blankly for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. "Oz isn't bad. And the Land of Untold Stories is pretty interesting, not to mention all it requires is a key and not my hat to get there. London is quite profitable too. To be honest, I like anywhere I can make money easily!"

Cities of emerald, Wonderland, and at least three different realms that each had a very different copy of a city called "London", where magic was different in each one; he'd never admit it, but sometimes thinking about the realms made him dizzy. It was all fascinating, truly it was. He welcomed the information. What wasn't always welcomed was Jefferson's long stays at the castle between trips. He wasn't sure how the boy had gotten the invitation to stay at his castle like he was some kind of teenager who didn't want to go home to his parents, but he knew that he was growing accustomed to being at work and seeing Jefferson sudden appear seemingly out of nowhere and haunt the halls of his castle before he suddenly disappeared just as mysteriously as he'd arrived.

In truth his yammering was only a problem for his sanity. The boy did seem to recognize some boundaries, though he did have a habit of testing his luck.

"Any sign of my curse?"

"Nothing on that," he sighed, sounding disappointed himself. "I ask everywhere I go, but mostly all I get for it is blank stares. If you had more information…"

"If I had more information, I wouldn't need to send you out looking to and fro now, would I?"

"Just a suggestion. It's not like looking for curses is in my typical wheelhouse. I usually specialize in rare items that glitter and make me money. But I'll keep looking. Never know what you might find out there. Last week I actually discovered a world where pigs fly. If that's possible, anything is!"

As Jefferson muttered his last word his head snapped up. Someone had just come onto the castle grounds. Two souls, one human and the other...at the speed the individual was approaching it must have been a horse. The Seer said nothing about the unexpected visit. It was probably a nobody coming to make a deal. He hoped they were more interesting than Jefferson, or at the very least less annoying. They'd be to the door any second now.

"Wait here and stay out of sight!" he snapped at the boy when he finally heard the knock on the door. With a wave of his hand, the objects he had on the table in the great room vanished back up to his workstation.

"What you think I'm not used to the rules of your business by now?!" Jefferson hollered after him as he left the room. He didn't panic. Annoying as he was, Jefferson was a smart man and knew better than to stay around when he wasn't wanted. When he returned to the room with his "business", as Jefferson had called it, he knew the boy would be gone from sight. Or else he'd find someone else to work that hat for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know...filler chapter. But it wasn't always this way. I'll confess my sin, originally this chapter was attached to another chapter and I was quite pleased with it. But just before publication I realized that chapter was in the wrong place on the timeline and I had to move it. Everyone makes mistakes. Fortunately, that mistake was corrected before publication, but when it comes to this "chapter"...well...I made room for it. Mostly because even if it is "filler" I think it does show some pretty important stuff. We see advancements with Regina, the removal of the mirror spells, and of course, Jefferson and Rumple's relationship growing.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your generous comments. I really do like the interaction between Rumple and Jefferson in this chapter. It's probably why I saved it instead of just attaching the Regina bit to the next chapter. What they're doing and looking at might not be terribly important (though there are some very important references in this conversation), but Rumple's thoughts as they're talking are important. To be frank, they kind of crack me up. It's just so typically Rumple! After Cora hurts him, truly he does push those he cares about and even loves away from him. So here we have Jefferson, who I place to be about the same age as Regina, and not only is he popping in and out of the castle and chatting quite amiably while Rumple is working, there are times he's freaking staying at the castle! Rumple says himself, he shows up for a few days then disappears. And then you have Rumple, who is constantly thinking "oh this is annoying" and "I don't like this", but the key is that he never does anything about it and that's what makes it funny to me. He's telling himself I don't like this kid I just endure him because he's useful, but we all know that if he wanted to, really wanted to, he could keep him at arm's length. He's the freaking Dark One, if he wanted him gone, he'd be gone. So the fact that he doesn't just speaks volumes in my mind. And every time he has those "this kid is annoying" thoughts, I think that's his way of keeping him at a distance emotionally. He's trying awfully hard to convince himself he doesn't like the kid. Will it work? Only time will tell. Peace and Happy Reading!


	47. Rocky Doorway

They had a system. It wasn't an ideal system, but it worked. Communication with the mirrors after Regina had removed her mother's spell was the first thing that she had mastered. When the girl had a spare moment, whether it was five minutes or five hours, she looked into her mirror and summoned him. He'd had her set up a very specific mirror to do the work, one that allowed her access to one mirror and one mirror only in his castle. After all, he couldn't allow the girl to have unlimited access, to look in on his workshop, to see what he was doing at any moment. He kept her mirror downstairs, in his Great Room, where it was easier for Jefferson to bug him, but she was likely not to see much, if anything was happening. And if he wanted her to be kept out of business, he simply threw a covering over the thing. That was why he also had her say his name three times. Just in case he wasn't by the mirror to hear her call, the summoning would do the work for them.

As a student, Regina was vastly different from her mother. Unlike Cora who had learned quickly, Regina was a slow learner, who needed just the right amounts of pressure, reassurance, and pushing to get her to do what he wanted. She did well with potions and herbs, but when it came to using her own magic actively, well, she tended to fall well short of her goals. Aside from learning spells for mirrors, she'd learned to suspend objects in mid-air and to transport objects from one spot to another. It was progress, he supposed, but it was minimal. She'd accomplished little in the last few months. Some of that, he admitted was due to how busy she was, and as much as it irritated him, he acknowledged there was nothing he could do about it. Another part of her resistance, he could tell, was that she was still holding back due to Daniel. That was a problem he'd solve all in good time. However, a lot of Regina's lack of progress was due to her lack of concentration. But he found that he didn't so much mind that particular difference, as every so often it seemed to point her in the direction that he wanted her to go.

Today was a rare opportunity where they'd been able to schedule a lesson, and by the time she'd wandered down the hall, back to her quarters, he'd already had it set up. She could move objects from one spot to another but only so long as she could see them. Today was the day they practiced summoning an unseen object. But as he greeted her, back fresh from an afternoon of riding through town, he was surprised to see the look on her face was anything but excited. She was whining. It was about Snow White, naturally. As the royal family had gone out among their people, they'd naturally drawn a crowd. Snow had been greeted with cheers, Regina had barely gotten applause.

"One of the children was so desperate to see her he actually fell down in the mud! But no, of course, that didn't stop Snow White! Oh no! She raced down off her steed to offer a handkerchief of her own for the child to clean himself!"

"You know…" he stated, pressing his fingers together. He hated to show irritation with such a conversation, especially when getting Regina to hate Snow White was part of his future plans and the irritation he knew she felt was what she needed to draw upon for his lesson. But if she could possibly direct that irritation into her magic instead of running her mouth and wasting the precious little time they had, then it might just work out for the both of them. "If you focused on your magic half as much as you focused on your horses, you'd have the entire Kingdom in the palm of your hand by now."

Regina snorted in protest and rolled her eyes. "How would magic have helped me today?"

"You could have prevented the child from falling. You could have transported him away; transported the mud away; used a spell to clean him; produced a sweet to make his day brighter…you need to broaden your horizons! Expand your imagination! Let your mind incorporate your magic into your daily life and see how it can change things. You need to see that all these little lessons can lead to great things if you let them. Here…let's start today's lesson simply…" he stated, grabbing her by the wrist and guiding her to her vanity.

He'd been busy while she'd been away, preparing for just this lesson. There on the table was a small crystal that he'd brought from his workshop. It was the same item they'd used when he'd taught her to move objects and suspend them in the air.

"Today, we'll work on calling the crystal to you…without being able to see it," he added quickly. She looked skeptical as he produced a hallow pyramid and set it over the crystal. "This is the first step to learning how to transport yourself to places you can't see and call objects from other rooms, in desk drawers, even from behind a locked door. So now…call it."

"Call it?" she questioned.

"To you, yes," he nodded eagerly. "See it in your mind's eye, tell yourself you want it, picture it in the palm of your hand, feel the rough hard edges against your skin, and…ha!" The rock appeared in his hand with a puff of black smoke. "Magic!" he proclaimed before he made it disappear again so that it was back under the prism. "Now, you try."

He watched as Regina looked at the prism, focused on it so hard he thought she might bore a hole into it or accidentally set it on fire, then took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, closed her eyes, raised and lowered her hand…

Nothing.

Almost nothing. He had, in fact, felt magic stir in the air around her, but it wasn't enough to summon that rock to her.

"Try again. Truly let yourself want it."

He watched again as she wiggled about, as if loosening her shoulders and the way she stood had anything to do with it. Then she repeated the process. She focused on the prism, took a breath, closed her eyes, raised and lowered her hand…

Nothing again.

There was a loud crack as Regina let her hand slap against her thigh in frustration.

"Just try again."

"How do I know it's really there?!" she argued. "How do I know you didn't move it with magic, and you aren't teaching me some other lesson?"

He stood in the exact same place he'd been standing. As infantile as her magic was, there was no need for those kind of lessons at present. But he shrugged anyway. "See for yourself…" he dismissed, glancing at the prism.

Silently she moved forward a step and lifted the pyramid from the desk. There was the stone, right where he'd placed it. Regina let out a noise of frustration as she slammed the pyramid back over the crystal.

"Maybe I'm not as good as you think I am! Maybe I can't do this like my mother!"

"Oh, like your mother certainly not!"

"Because I'm not good enough!"

"Because I have seen your powers!" he urged, taking a step slower and reaching up to place his hands on her shoulders. She was growing angry, frustrated. It was good. There beneath her skin, when he touched her, he could feel the magic simmering inside of her; she just needed to accept what she was and learn to channel and use it. "I have seen your powers, and I sense them even now beneath your skin. No, Regina, you are not like your mother because you are stronger and in a place of power she only ever dreamed of. You only need to learn this truth and believe it. Now…" he let go of her shoulders and took a few steps back. "Try again."

She nodded in determination, licked her lips, and stared at the pyramid again. This time she didn't close her eyes. She didn't straighten her shoulders, just raised and lowered her arm as one hand stayed balled in a fist by her side.

She was unsuccessful.

"Again," he urged. "Again," he stated patiently twice more after more failures before she turned back to him and landed in the chair by her vanity.

"I don't understand!"

"What now?"

"What's my motivation?"

"Your motivation?" he questioned, growing frustrated himself. He could abide by her standing there and trying unsuccessfully. He could not, however, stand here and witness temperamental whining, he had better things to do with his time than that.

"It's a rock!" she exclaimed. "You told me to tell myself that I want it, but why do I want it? I don't want a rock! Maybe if we tried with a horse!"

"And how willing will you be to practice with a horse if I told you that you might kill it in the process?" he questioned. "You start small, on harmless objects until it's perfected, and until then, your motivation to do it is simply because you can. You want to prove to me that you can do this. That should be enough."

"What's the point of all this anyway?! It's just a rock!"

"It's a doorway!" he stressed, purposefully opening his mouth so he wouldn't clench his jaw. "Master this ability, and the entire skill will fall open to you. If you can move a rock, then you can move a horse, and if you can move a horse, then you can move yourself. Just imagine the possibilities! Any time you want to be somewhere, you can go! You can leave these grounds at the drop of a hat and be anywhere you want to be. Enjoy a book by a river, ride on the beach, take your lovely chaise out to the highest mountain, and lay out in the sun if you wish, but it all starts here! With this one little rock! Without this skill, you will never go anywhere or take anything with you if you don't learn how to do this properly!"

"Have you ever considered that maybe you and your feelings are wrong, that I'm not as powerful as you seem to think I am? Because from where I stand even Snow White seems to have more magical power than I do!"

This again! This never-ending argument, it was almost as bad as being married. He could have sworn they'd just discussed this, and yet she'd circled around again. His instinct was to give up, to roll his eyes, and find someone else that wouldn't be as much trouble and was easily manipulatable, but the Seer had her claws in him deep. It was Regina. She was the key or at least part of it. It had to be her. And with her last sentence, he was beginning to realize that only half of this was about her.

"What are you blabbering on about? What power does the Princess have?"

"She can talk to birds!" Regina exclaimed, rising out of her seat and pacing anxiously across the room with a hand on her hip.

"Children talk to animals all the time. Adults call it an 'active imagination'."

"No, she can really talk to them!" she insisted, spinning around and advancing on him. "They fly in and out of the palace all the time! They sit on her shoulder, and the pair of them jabber on about the creature's day! I doubt she learned that in school! It's magic."

Magic.

Yes, it was.

He shook his head as he realized what exactly it was that was going on. The ability to talk with small animals, usually birds-it was magical but a very minor magical ability, so much so it was almost laughable in the community.

And yet…he was trying to purposefully instill as much anger and jealousy toward the girl in Regina as he possibly could, to motivate her and create what he knew she could become. If he didn't explain what was happening with Snow White, she'd never understand how absurd this conversation was and take away all that precious jealousy that he needed to harvest later. But if he explained exactly what it was then it might just might take away her confidence completely so that she would never grow enough to move the fucking rock out from underneath gauze! A delicate situation called for a delicate explanation, one that allowed him to have it both ways.

"No…it's not a skill she learned in school, just one she was born with."

Regina opened her mouth but shut it quickly as she shook her head.

"A thousand years ago, when royals were just as magical as they were noble, they used magic to give themselves the art of bird-speak, to communicate during war and have the upper hand. That ability has survived in some of the strongest and oldest of bloodlines. It is considered a very minor magical ability, but an ability all the same. One that Snow White has, and you don't. But…"

He summoned the rock into his hand once more as he took gentle steps closer to the emotional queen.

"The ability of transportation, to move objects out of one space and into another is a far superior ability. Master this, and when it comes to strength, it won't be a question as to which of you is the most powerful. You can't change her lineage, or the natural gifts that were handed to her at birth. You can't acquire those abilities on your own…but with magic, you can at least turn the tide in your favor."

He blew on the rock just to be dramatic and allowed it to disappear out of his hand and back under the covering he'd brought with him.

"Magic is about knowing what you want and letting yourself have it, dearie. Practice a while," he suggested. "Figure out what it is exactly that you want…"

Just because he could, he allowed himself to disappear in front of her, showing her what might be if she mastered what he told her too. If he'd done his job right, she would gather from their conversation her motivation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had the other two chapters labeled as part of this episode but there is no doubt now that this is officially a 3x16 chapter. We saw this scene play itself out for all of about 10 seconds but we never heard anything from it and as you can see I took the opportunity to expand it. Where did we see this? Good question, as I said, it was quick and you might have missed it, but this was the scene that the "Wizard" shows Zelena when she goes to him for help. We never heard words from it, but I was rather happy about that because I was able to make it work for my own purposes.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I hope you won't mind that I threw a little bit of a curveball at you in attempting to explain why Snow and some other people in the series can talk to birds and chipmunks 'n such. Still, I know it's not quite what you want out of the 3x16 chapters, so I'm happy to let you know that you should stay tuned. What, or rather, who, you want is coming at you for the first time in the next chapter. Hold on tight because we're about to enter a world of crazy! Peace and Happy Reading!


	48. The Firstborn

Of course, Regina's problem wasn't just Snow White. There were several issues that made Regina a less than ideal candidate if it weren't for that prophecy. The issue of her mother was taken care of, Snow was something that he was dealing with, the amount of time they had together was non-negotiable, and her father who might have seen what was going on was too weak to fight back. Her confidence, her belief, her understanding, her marriage, all were issues that needed to be overcome in the years ahead. Still, there was one other hindrance that he foresaw being far more of an issue than all the others.

Daniel.

Regina visited Daniel nearly every day in the mausoleum the King had built her. So, after their spat, when he returned to his chambers and peered through the mirror, he wasn't surprised to find her running from the room. Through the halls, past the room of her husband, and into the familiar mausoleum she went. It was the place that Daniel's smuggled body rested on a pedestal in the middle of a room under a preservation spell that she had cast before she knew she had magic. She threw herself against the glass case and wept. She wept until she lost her footing and cried in a ball beside the pedestal and he had to turn away. Pathetic.

Daniel was going to be a hindrance, without a doubt. What had happened to the boy was by magic and it was so traumatizing that until she could put that chapter behind her there would come a time that she was unable to move forward with anything, let alone her magic. It wasn't at this stage. As much as she whined about it, the truth of the matter was that the transport spell was easy. As soon as she learned how to tap into her reserves of magic, she would get it, and so much more would come easier to her. He was certain that she hadn't reached her breaking point yet, but she would. Maybe in a year, maybe in five years, but someday, Daniel would hold her back. He'd rather deal with that sooner than later. But how to do it, that was going to be the tricky thing.

He had a feeling, just a hunch, one born of someone who had lost so much himself, as to what her true motivation was in all of this. That was why moving the rock had been so difficult for her. He'd convinced her to do this for the power that she might acquire through it, for the power that she could possess, but if that was really what it meant to her then she should have been able to move the rock. But if her motives were secret, if she wanted power for something else, say, to resurrect her dead sweetheart, then what she'd said in the room was right. She would never be able to move the rock because that was not her ultimate goal. If his hunch was right, then she'd never be able to do much more than she was at this moment. And that was reason enough to deal with this soon. As soon as he could squash that false hope she carried and get her to focus on what she could accomplish instead of some girlish fantasy then the sooner she'd grow strong.

But then again…

Working downstairs, he heard a sound, footsteps coming from the mirror that he kept connected to Regina's room. She'd returned? So quickly?

He put the potion he was working on aside and stepped closer, waving his hand so that he might see inside the room just to judge her state of mind. Was she back and ready to work? Or only going to whine a bit more and use excuse after excuse for why she couldn't do what he knew she could.

Work, it seemed. He watched as Regina went to her desk, her back to him, her cloak still drawn up over her as if she was drawn to that pyramid. He summoned his magic to take himself back to her bedroom. If she was about to practice, he wanted to be in the room, to feel the magic coming off of her that he might understand it better and how it was working within her so he could give the appropriate tutelage today or even the next day. But he wasn't ready to make himself known. Regina, or at least her magic was still a mystery to him, and he was reminded once of a Bard he'd met who had the gift of magic but simply been unable to do it when others were around. Perhaps, like him, Regina needed privacy.

So he hid behind the wardrobe, safe from her gaze. It wasn't exactly ideal. If she'd step a little more to the left, he'd have a much better view, but as it was what he saw now was all that he needed to see. It was simply her hand, raised flat into the air just as it had been earlier in the day. He saw enough of her back to watch her breath in as she had before, felt magic fill the air around her and-

In a cloud of green smoke, the rock was suddenly there in her hands.

Perfect.

There. Practice and a bit of privacy were all it had taken. They could work on that second bit through the first bit.

"Well, this is a day of surprises. I thought it would take you at least until-"

He stopped. Moving around the wardrobe, he saw that the woman in front of him was not Regina-obviously.

Her hair was bushy and red, her skin a sickly white shade instead of the rich tan that was Regina's. And her clothes! Oh, Cora would have had a fit ever to see her daughter in clothes like that. The clothes of a peasant.

"You're not Regina," he exclaimed, looking her over. She'd have to die, clearly. This mistake, simple as it was, was on him. She was evidently nothing more than a servant girl who possessed magic and wasn't supposed to be here to see him. He never trusted servants, not after the few he'd had. They spread rumors like wildfire.

The girl seemed struck for a moment, shock at being caught was clear on her face, but the moment he stood still, she took a step forward, and he noted the way that her back immediately straightened in pride, not fear. That wasn't usually the response he got when he surprised people.

"No," she declared. "I'm Cora's other daughter."

His gut felt as though he'd just been pushed off a castle tower with no warning. There was the very distinct feeling of falling in the pit of his stomach as he looked the girl over and felt his body chill with cold for a flash before he stepped closer to her. In the back of his head, he could hear Cora, the ghost of Cora's laughter.

Another daughter.

No.

No, he'd known Cora before she'd had Regina if there had been another daughter, then he would have known about it. More than likely, this was just some servant who'd gotten herself into trouble and was looking to fool him so she wouldn't get in trouble for going through the Queen's things. The trouble was, if she'd seen him, then she was in trouble in an entirely different way than she knew. No one could know that Regina was working with him; the time wasn't right with her newly crowned status. Obviously, the poor girl would need to be killed, but now he could at least frame it as her own fault for lying and not his own mistake.

"That's not possible," he stated rounding on the maid.

But instead of slinking away from him, instead of making more excuses or whimpering or begging, he watched as the girl smiled a bit, then held her head even higher.

"I'm Zelena. Her first-born."

Pride. Again! There was no denying that flicker of it he'd seen in her eyes. Pride came with certain truth. A profound knowledge that something was real. Which left only three options. Either the girl was delusional and crazy, she had been told a lie, or she had been told, and believed, a truth. Figuring out which was easy enough for a man of magic.

"We'll see about that."

As soon as he was close enough, he ripped a hair off her head. She jumped though he suspected it was more out of shock and fear than pain. In his pocket, he just so happened to have potion, one he'd been working on for Regina, to protect the noises people might hear in their quarters as she practiced her magic. He pulled the cork from the bottle with his mouth and gave it a couple of swirls to make it potent. In the potion, there was blood magic, tailored to her, made from the blood that he'd taken after one of their last lessons. If the girl was lying and she had no relation to Regina, the potion would turn black and sizzle as it ate away at her essence, not to mention he'd have to make it again which would prove to be very inconvenient for him. If she was telling the truth, it would recognize her as Regina's blood and glow bright…green.

He stared down in fascination as that feeling of being dropped off the tower returned.

The potion was green. Bright green for a strong connection. If she was a cousin or aunt, the reaction would not have been so strong, but with this kind of strength, there was no denying that she was a sibling. A sibling…to figure out if it was father or mother's side might have taken some time, but why worry when she'd already revealed it. Cora's other daughter, she'd said. And had she said Cora's firstborn?

"Oh, hello, dearie," he muttered in shock. "A day of surprises indeed. Firstborn, did you say?"

"Yes…Cora-"

"Shh!" he waved a hand that took her voice from her and looked over his shoulder as the girl, Zelena, began to struggle. Opening and closing her mouth, moving her hand over her throat all the while he listened. The room was not yet secure, and even if it was, then it would never hide the noises of voices. There were people coming. "Not here, dearie," he muttered quickly before turning to grab Zelena by the arms and removing her from the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, I initially had this chapter attached to the next one but then it got to be so long and this appeared to be a good place to break the two. Not too much to say here, it's the first appearance of Zelena, obviously. I hope you'll be alright with how I wrote it. And I hope that some of you C.S. Lewis fans will enjoy that little bone I threw to you in this chapter! It's one of my favorite ideas of his and I was pleased to incorporate it.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter! I'm so happy to have you sticking with me I know this is a super long fiction, especially if you are here to see a specific character and that character has either limited time or hasn't made an appearance yet, but rest assured we will get there. And I'm super happy for all your support on this work. It wasn't a little project, and I'm happy to have you reading it and making the work it took to produce it worth it! Peace and Happy Reading!


	49. Tales of the Abandoned

He took Zelena to the forest, just outside the little valley village close to his castle. There was little choice in the matter. Naturally, he couldn't take her to the village outside of Regina's castle! With such a bold statement, she'd just admitted without discretion that she was Cora's daughter. And while Regina was, in fact, married to the King, there were still several problems that could arise if Zelena were to open her mouth in close proximity to her sister. Not to mention the fact that he couldn't be sure what would happen to Regina if she found out that she had a sister. He was just barely managing to get her through this squabble with Snow White he couldn't be sure what would happen if he had to worry about a sister coming into the picture.

No, the forest outside of his castle, far from Regina, was safest. But where to go from there…he hadn't a clue. It had been a long time since he felt he'd been in a chess match with Cora, but at the moment all that came to his mind was a vision of Cora sitting back on her throne with a knowing smile as she said "checkmate" in her seductive breathy voice.

"What are you doing?! Where are we?! What did you do to me?!" Zelena screamed before finally pushing him away. Tendrils of magic leaped at his skin at such an action, and he wanted so desperately to throw something at her that might shut her up, but at the moment when what he needed most were answers.

"Magical transportation. Comes in handy when you need to get from place to place," he explained away instead, watching as she paced in the little clearing looking this way and that, holding her hand to her throat and looking as though she might cry out for help…something she couldn't do just before they'd arrived here. "Oh! That. Let's just say removal of the voice is a magic trick that is typically gratefully learned. Kind of like…this magic!" Into his hand, he summoned a torch for her benefit as he could see just fine. It was like a moth to the flame. The second it sparked to life, Zelena stopped fussing about and came closer to him, her eyes wide. A moth indeed. She reminded him something of moth. Her eyes were big. She was taller than both Regina and Cora were. And hairy. Though, not in an unflattering sort of way. She had vibrant red bushy hair that resembled neither Cora nor Regina nor even Henry, though he knew that Henry would not have been this girl's father. That man…he couldn't begin to fathom who that man might have been. Perhaps someone Cora met while delivering flour or working in the tavern? A wanderer? A traveler? Someone who had a bit of coin to offer, he wouldn't have put that past Cora. Not at all. If it weren't for her cheeks and chin, and a certain sense of cold in her eyes, he would have assumed that even his magic was wrong and she was of no relation to Cora. But magic didn't lie. And neither did the hunger in her gaze as she crept closer to examine the torch in his hand.

"Magic! It's beautiful! Can you teach me?!"

"Not. So. Fast!" he taunted, pulling the torch away when she lunged for it. "I've a few questions of my own. First and foremost…who are you?" he asked pointing at her.

She took a step back, her face dropping and wrinkling as a child's might after they were denied a toy they wanted and instead given a test for it.

"I've told you. I'm Zelena, the firstborn daughter of Cora."

"Yes, yes, you've covered that, now I need to know the rest."

"The rest? What more do you need to know?"

He didn't roll his eyes, though he wanted to desperately. But with her standing there looking confused and scared, and all that beautiful magic flowing freely through her, he didn't think that the smartest course of action. Wherever she'd been, this girl clearly had little access to education.

"Let's start with the basics," he suggested bringing the light forward once more and making her squint. "If you're the firstborn of Cora, then why does everyone believe that her firstborn, and only child, resides in the castle with the King? Where have you been?"

The girl deflated, visibly. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked down at her feet; gone was the pride she had when she announced that she was a child of Cora. What was left was naught but an unassuming, but still very powerful, frightened little girl.

"Over the rainbow…" she shrugged with a small amused smirk.

"Precious, but I'm going to need you to be more specific."

"Oz."

"Oz…" he echoed. The word was foreign, and yet he knew it all the same, from Dark Ones past but also from his new acquaintanceship with Jefferson. He was almost positive he'd heard the boy mention something about it before. Which meant it was more than another land, it was another realm entirely.

"Yes…my father only just told me that I wasn't theirs, you see. He is a woodcutter and a drunk there. My mother died years ago, but I believed they were my real parents until he just…burst out that I wasn't theirs! They found me."

"And how was that? How did you get from here…all the way to Oz?"

"I'm…I'm not sure…I was only a baby, and my father said it was a tornado, but…but I had to know myself so I went to see the Wizard. I wanted to be here, I wanted to know all about-"

"Ah-ah-ah!" he cut off, shoving a waving finger in her face because he had the sense that she was once more leading up to something that he wasn't ready for her to go yet. "Still, my turn."

"Well…when do I get my turn?!" she asked without a hint of demand in her voice. There was only pouting. Older than Regina and yet she resembled a child far more than her younger sister. What had this Oz done to this girl? What had Cora done?

"When I decide it's your turn," he answered, using a response he might have given to Baelfire when he was young just to see if it worked. She acted like a child, would she allow herself to be treated as such? It seemed so, as the response worked to silence her. That was worth noting. "How did you get from Oz to here?"

"The Wizard sent me. He showed me a vision of a woman leaving me in the woods, my real mother. He said her name was Cora and then I saw you teaching Regina and I saw how she was struggling, and I knew you had the wrong student! It's me you should be teaching! I have magic! And he said that here it's not considered evil. Here, magic is a gift, and you are a great Wizard! You could teach me! Because I'm Cora's daughter, don't you see just like Regina! And you…you knew my mother? You knew Cora? How? What was she like?"

He desperately wanted more details, had to have them, craved them really. But at the same time, the look in Zelena's eyes was unyielding. In her mind, she'd answered his questions, and now he would answer her own. It wouldn't be smart to push this too much. He might come off as too desperate for the information. He wasn't familiar with this…"Wizard" from Oz though he knew what he was going to be asking Jefferson the next time that boy came around. He wanted to know how she'd come into this world, but the truth was that if it had sent her from magical realm to magical realm without him detecting a spike in magic, it probably wasn't going to get him to The Realm Without Magic. And even then, with Zelena, it might not be necessary. The girl was powerful. Truly powerful. He could sense it just below her skin, growing more and more frantic just as she grew more and more frantic. Between that and the confirmation from the potion…this was Cora's daughter. Her firstborn as Cora would never have been able to conceal a pregnancy while she'd been in the castle, much less abandon the baby. But for a miller's daughter desperate to improve her station, a baby would have been considered a life sentence. With a child to care for, she never would have moved up in the world, never would have been anything more than a Miller's daughter. And as far as leaving her in the woods…Cora was just cold-hearted enough to do that if it meant her own happiness and dreams would survive. She'd proved that to him the night they'd intended to run away.

"I knew your mother," he confirmed, taking a step forward to walk with the girl a bit. If she didn't work off some of the energy she had, then it could be disastrous, especially because he wanted to see that energy transformed into magic. Just how powerful was she, he wondered. "I was the one who taught Cora magic. We spent much time together before she married her prince and gave birth to your sister, Regina."

"And…Cora never mentioned me?" she asked desperately, her hands wringing in front of her as they walked. The desperation he understood. The reasoning behind continuing to ask him the same question over and over again, only rubbing salt into her wounds, was the confusing part.

"A firstborn daughter? I think that's something I would remember." Though now that he thought about it…she had. They'd talked of her firstborn child often…he'd just always believed it was Regina. Suddenly things that hadn't occurred to him when he'd been seeing Cora were cast in a new light. When they'd been together, she'd been desperate to keep Zelena a secret, she'd have wanted Regina to be the firstborn, to be what he needed her to be. Once they were no longer together, she'd convinced him to change the deal and protected Regina, potentially knowing that she was not what he needed to cast the curse as she was not, in fact, her firstborn. Well…the future had won out again.

"Now, there's a spell, a curse I've been working on for a very long time. Now I foresaw that that curse can only be cast by Cora's daughter."

"That's why you've been training Regina. You thought she was going to cast the curse!" she worked out.

"Until today." The firstborn of Cora was here before him and her power...it was stunning, powerful. It was precisely what he needed. But only if she could control it and be taught. He'd been studying Regina her entire life. Zelena was a new card in the deck. He had no idea of how she'd grown up, no proof other than moving a rock that she could perform magic, he had no idea how she thought, her mannerisms, her motivations. That was all undetermined.

"Shall we see what you can do?"

She smiled. Her breath hitched with excitement as she offered a small nod, and he summoned a black blindfold from the walls of his castle. What he was about to do would be hard; there was no doubt about it. It was something that Regina would not be able to do yet. But the outcome would tell him everything he needed to know about Zelena and the magic that she had inside of her.

"Magic isn't about what you see, dearie, it's about what you feel inside," he said as he reached up to tie the clothe around her eyes, blinding her. "You'll have to dig deep if you wanna pass tonight's test."

"What am I meant to do?"

"Simple. Find me!" He used his magic to transport himself just behind her. "Over here, dearie!"

At the sound of his voice, she automatically turned toward him. He moved again, to lean against the tree that had once been in front of her.

"Close, but not close enough!" he called out, drawing her attention back to him. Magic had a way of sensing magic. It was one of his first lessons. It was the reason he could step into a room and identify objects that were magical against those that were fake. Regina would have this ability, someday, when she'd been working with magic long enough to get the taste, the smell of it. And of course, as the firstborn, he would be willing to work with Zelena now, but if what he'd seen and what he was feeling from her at this moment now was any indication, even without training she was years ahead of her sister. But still, he had to be sure.

"Magic comes from emotion. Simply think of a moment that makes you seethe with anger-"

"And use it to feel the magic. Yes, I've learned that a long time ago." Had she now? "It's hard to pick one. Finding out that my mother abandoned me. That my father never wanted me." She was growing agitated, near the verge of tears at her memories, but he noticed as he took a step in another direction, her body followed his motions. Coincidence?

"Getting warmer," he called before moving to a different spot.

"That my sister got everything I've ever desired. That she didn't even have to try hard. It was all just handed to her. And she doesn't even know what she had!" the girl screamed. He made a motion to move again, but before he could take even another step into his magic, he felt a tight grip close over his forearm, holding him in place.

"Ding Dong," he muttered in triumph and amazement.

She'd done it. And her rambling had let on to far more than he'd needed to know at this moment, but something that would be incredibly helpful as they moved forward. Her motivation. It was jealousy. If her hints were any indication, she'd known she had a sister for only a short time but growing up in poverty, being abandoned, and now seeing the life that might have been hers…that was what made her blood pump and the magic flow. And her magic, it was strong enough from escaping her vise.

Zelena pulled off her blindfold and raised his arm to see she had it.

"There it is. I can feel it in your nails."

"Sorry," she whimpered, finally releasing him. "I lost control."

Yes…and she was capable of so much more if she didn't calm it. Half of magic was knowing when to use it and when not to.

"And now, you need to think of a moment of happiness rein in some of that anger!" he proclaimed, stepping away again. Or not. Her panic had been enough a moment ago, but now, as she cast her eyes down to the ground as if searching for a coin she'd dropped, he could feel her magic swirling again. She was powerful, but easily worked up. It figured. With one sister he was struggling to uncap her potential, with this sister, he could sense that he was going to struggle with containing it.

"What do you think about?" she finally asked, moving eagerly toward him with a smile. He nearly laughed at her remark but managed to hold it in. Laughing would only goad her on, and there was something they needed to be clear about as they went onward from here.

"I'm the teacher. I ask the questions," he insisted as he moved away from her.

"But…if you don't tell me that how will I learn?" she shouted out at him.

A fair point. Even with Regina, he had been forced to reveal a little of himself. But he wasn't about to be honest with her, with someone he hardly trusted. The truth was that when he needed to reign himself in, he thought of Baelfire. He thought of the moment he held his son in his arms for the first time, or the moment he held him during the night and knew that he could raise him on his own. He thought of the moment Bae had called him "Papa" for the first time. And he thought of that look he'd given him whenever he'd promised Bae everything was going to be alright and his son had still trusted his words. But he wasn't about to tell any of that to Zelena, or even Regina. Cora had gotten too close as it was and look how she'd responded.

So instead, he shrugged in acceptance of Zelena's questioning and found another memory a memory that had significance but hadn't been thought of in years. It was a memory that would perhaps make a tether between himself and Zelena so that she might not only consider him teacher, but also similar to her.

"Well, like you, I was abandoned as a child. Some spinsters took us in. We didn't have much. But we got by. Whenever we finished a job, they used to bake meat pie. The entire hovel would fill with the most wonderful smell," he closed his eyes and could see it so clearly in his mind he thought he could smell it as well.

_His aunts smiling and fussing over him as they waited for their supper to cool and fawned over his spinning abilities before calling him to the table and handing him his fork. "Go ahead, Rumple…you've earned it!" they would say before he dug in._

"And after they were cooled, they always let me take the first bite. And as the food warmed my body, that was the only time I forgot who I really was. A boy who wasn't wanted by his papa."

The memory faded as he opened his eyes and found himself smiling. He hadn't thought of those days in years, hadn't thought of how delicious those pies had been on how warm he'd felt when they baked it just for him. God…he did miss his aunts dreadfully sometimes.

"Mmm," he glanced over to find Zelena smiling at him, it was hard to miss with her standing right over his shoulder. She was so close it looked like at any moment she might attempt to reach out and touch him and it sent all manner of happy thoughts fleeing from his mind. He'd wanted her to have the sense that they were connected in a way, but now, he worried…perhaps he'd done too good a job.

"Then, I know my moment."

"What's that, dearie?" he questioned, moving out of her grasp to stand before her.

"The moment I stopped feeling like someone who wasn't wanted," she cried with a shake of her head. "The moment you agreed to train me."

He let loose a giggle as he saw something there in her eyes, a bit of something he'd only ever seen once before in a maid who had been more than a bit obsessed with him while Baelfire was around. He'd had to kill the girl before she'd done anything truly harmful, but…that same look was in Zelena's eyes now, tenfold. It was more than a bit crazy. It was madness.

"Train you indeed," he muttered, looking her over, recognizing a delicate situation when he saw one. "Lay low for now, Dearie, keep working on those happy memories…I'll find you when the time comes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really difficult chapter to write because there was a huge blank to fill in. When we last see Zelena and Rumple on screen they are in Regina's bedroom, next time we see them they are in the middle of the woods, with a torch, talking. When we see this scene in the show it's obvious that we are coming into a conversation halfway through, I had to essentially make up that first half on my own. My hope is that it flows seamlessly together and you didn't even realize it wasn't a seen scene until you arrived at the stuff you saw and said "hey this seems familiar". Difficult to write, but I hope I did okay with it.
> 
> Many thank yous to the wonderful RolfB for their comments! I know Zelena isn't a favorite for a lot of us. Nothing against Bex, who most people absolutely adore (and why wouldn't you, she's adorable), but the Zelena storyline wasn't a happy one for our Rumple. However, rest assured she'll be gone in no time and in the next chapter we will get something of a break from her as we turn back to our good friend Jefferson! Peace and Happy Reading!


	50. The Land of Oz

He didn't like to be confused. He didn't like not knowing what he was supposed to do or losing control of what was happening around him or in his head.

Zelena or Regina.

Regina or Zelena.

It was a conundrum.

Zelena was extraordinary. He didn't know where exactly she was staying in the village, and nor did he really care, but he knew that every time he met with her she was clean and strong and he assumed well-fed. Zelena might not resemble her mother physically, but when it came to magic, she was capable of learning just as fast as her mother had, if not faster. Zelena had always been aware of her magic; it was something she'd tried to control all her life, whereas Cora had only found out about it when he'd met her. Zelena's magic was strong and looking for something, purpose and guidance. That meant that his pupil took great pleasure in discovering anything and everything that she could do! He had no doubt that if he gave Zelena that curse, she could probably be ready to cast it in only a week or so.

And yet…

He didn't have the curse in hand. And even if he did, that little nagging voice in the back of his head that sounded freakishly like the Seer scowled at such a thought, pushing him more and more toward Regina.

It was going to take years to prepare Regina, not only where her magic was concerned but also where the sacrifice was concerned. If the books were right and it did require a dearly loved heart, the heart of the thing most loved, then it was going to take a while to get sheltered, sweet Regina to give into her darker urges and jealousies and make that sacrifice. Not that she could at the moment seeing as how the thing she loved most had already had its heart crushed and was lying dead in a tomb! But he was beginning to think of a way around that little matter. Still, out of curiosity, with some of their time a few days ago, he'd taken Regina out to a clearing and conducted the same test on her that he had on Zelena. She'd failed.

To Regina's credit, she'd been able to identify the quadrant of the circle that he was in, but never able to catch him as Zelena had. Instead, she'd grown frustrated and insisted on going back to the task of moving the rock, even though they both knew she still couldn't do it. He'd told her simply that until she was willing to let go of whatever it was still holding her prisoner to her mother, she'd never be able to succeed. He'd left and had a lesson with Zelena on transporting oneself around the realm via magic. It had taken her barely five minutes to get the hang of it.

Logically, he felt that Zelena was the far better candidate for the job. Aside from the fact that he didn't yet know what Zelena loved most of all, there were a few other little things he'd noticed about her that made him cautious. He didn't particularly care for how clingy and devoted she was. She constantly wanted and needed reassurance and had a temper that could be set off like a match at any time over the smallest of things. It was almost volatile. But if she could cast the curse, what would her temper matter? He could kill her afterward. It would mean nothing to him. But as it was, he didn't have the damn curse in hand because he thought he had more time to find it! Could he keep a temper like Zelena's sizzling long enough to find the curse, learn her heart's desire, and get her to enact such a thing?

Zelena or Regina…

It was a choice…a confusing choice. So he opted for doing what he always did when confronted with something like this. Gloating. Sleep, since becoming the Dark One was elusive, a rarity he only engaged in a handful of times, especially since Baelfire had gone away. Over the years, he'd found that writing letters to Baelfire when he was lonely was a good way of releasing pent up energy and emotions and often did him better than a night of sleep.

But tonight, Baelfire was not the recipient of his letter. He couldn't be. The letter writing to Baelfire was a good way of releasing the good emotions he had. But to build up more of the darker ones like anger and malice there was another target. He needed this curse to get to Bae, and it was only by behaving a certain way that he was going to be able to maintain it. Once he was there and there was no need to foster these skills and emotions, once he was without his curse in this world without magic, he'd become normal again just as Baelfire had always wanted, but until then he accepted what he was and moved on. So tonight, instead of writing "My boy Baelfire" in greeting, he began "Cora, dear."

_"I've finally got my hands on your firstborn. Never thought I'd find her, did you? Now I know why: She's the most powerful sorceress I've ever encountered. Even more powerful than you. Stunning in every way."_

"What are you writing?"

The whirl of magic had him quickly finishing his sentence and dipping the quill so he wasn't startled by the realm jumpers sudden reappearance in his home, back from wherever he'd just come from. It was about time he returned. It had certainly been long enough. If he was honest, he'd taken up staying in the Great Hall more and more simply because if Jefferson returned, he was more likely to run into him there than his Tower. If the boy was to seek him out, he'd rather run into him in the Great Room than his Tower.

"Nothing that concerns you," he sighed as he set the letter aside. "Though I will have an errand for you to run later and some questions you might be able to answer now."

"Question away…" he sighed, pulling up a chair and biting into a…well…it sounded like an apple; only it was blue and peach sized. He leaned back in his chair and quickly set his booted feet up on the table as he munched away at the thing. His manners would be addressed later after he had some answers. He'd waited long enough.

"I'm interested to know if you've ever heard of a realm that goes by Oz."

"Ah…The Land of Oz…famous for the Emerald City," he announced. "Sure. Lots of witches and talking animals, and run by a quack. I think I mentioned it to you a bit ago. What do you want to know about it?"

"A 'quack' you say?" he prodded.

Jefferson nodded as he peeled something off the fruit he was eating before taking another bite. "Calls himself the 'Wizard'," he mumbled through a full mouth before swallowing. "But…near as I can tell he has no magical abilities. I don't even think he's really from there; big extravagant city like that…the guy tries too hard, it doesn't come naturally enough. If I had to guess I'd say he's really a small town, corn fed hick kinda guy. I dropped in on him once as he was consulting with a Sorceress, nearly lost my head. Next time I went back, he wasn't there, and I was able to roam about for a few minutes before they realized I was there. I think he'd put a spell on the place, something that alerts them when there is someone in his chambers because that room was empty, but they came in like they were ready for war."

"Undetectable Detection Spell…quite possibly," he provided as the boy finished his blue fruit. That information was precisely why he ignored some of Jefferson's faults to keep him close. Not only had he presented valuable information, but he was also intuitive in a way humans so rarely were. He didn't doubt a single one of his observations. He only wanted to take as many of them in as he possibly could. "Did you happen to learn anything about him while you were…'roaming about'?"

"Just a few valuable insights," he commented, setting the core aside and licking his fingers. "He collects magical objects, like you, but near as I can tell he doesn't horde them. A lot of people that go to see him end up coming out with the objects in exchange for them bringing him something in return. I suspect it's because he can't do magic on his own. It's all a show. Like I said, he tries too hard for it to be natural. Oh, and he also has this crystal ball thing, I think it tells him things or shows him things…he and the Sorceress were using it when I stumbled in the first time. I think it tells the future or something."

A crystal ball…

"That could be profitable information…" he considered. "Who was the Sorceress?"

"Tan, pretty, and blonde…didn't stick around long enough to find out her name though, not really my type. And I never saw her again, not that I go there all that often. It's a really profitable place when I have a target, but the guards kind of give me the willies and-"

Suddenly Jefferson paused as the ease he'd had before left his body, and he looked him in the eye suspiciously.

"Why the sudden interest?"

He smiled as he touched his fingertips together. "I want you to go to Oz-"

Jefferson slouched into the chair as if his spine had been magically removed. He groaned like a teenager who had just been asked to tend to the milking.

"I want you to go to Oz and gather as much information for me as you can on a woman named Zelena and anything you can find out about this Wizard, fraud or not."

"Do I have to?" he questioned, running a hand over his face before moving it over his neck. "My neck still itches from the last time. I had a nasty run-in with a guy in the woods and an ax."

"I'd be willing to triple your traditional fee…for your troubles, of course."

All men could be bought, and fortunately, he knew Jefferson's prices far too well. In his opinion, their acquaintanceship made the boy far too willing to come in underpaid, but if it benefited him, then he wouldn't complain. And neither did Jefferson. His proposal had his eyes wide, and his spine returned as he put his feet to the floor and sat up straight in his chair again.

"For that…I'll risk it. Itchy neck it is! I'll leave in the morning. Mind if I stay the night again?" he questioned, launching himself out of his chair and already heading for the door.

"Does it matter if I mind?"

"Not particularly. I can't get home in the time that it would take me to leave, so it's just easier. And since this trip is for you, the least you could do is loan me a bed."

"In addition to your triple pay, you mean? Well, by all means. Just don't make a mess or disturb me or else-"

"Yeah, something dark and threatening and sinister, I get it. Don't wait up, I won't see you in the morning!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In these dark times, it helps to have a Jefferson chapter to lean on. God, I know Rumple would never use the word or consider it as such, but come on...you have to love their little bro-mance, right?! It's cute. At least for now...
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments. Your reviews and consistent reading is something that continues to make my day! I know this is sort of a filler chapter, but you can see it's a necessity. There are a lot of important things going on in this chapter, even more important information being shared. Peace and Happy Reading!


	51. A Hint of Green

My father always used to tell me no matter what I felt inside, I had to put on a good face," Zelena had told him during their lesson today. If that was true, it was ironic to him that that line, in particular, was her philosophy, especially when she was so terrible at it.

Zelena's personality was…unstable, to say the least. It was concerning. Far more than he'd ever anticipated. There was a craziness to her that made him uncomfortable, and that was saying something for the Dark One. She'd admitted to him today that she'd killed a woman with an excited laugh. She'd been almost giddy when they met. And she'd confessed to him that where she was working in the village, there had been a shop-girl who the manager always favored. Then she'd giggled as she'd told him that she was excited because as of today that girl wasn't likely to ever return to her work or her home.

"Isn't it a tragedy?" she'd smiled wickedly, her hands fidgeting in a way that clearly showed she'd been responsible for the girl's disappearance.

"Tragedy, indeed. One would think you'd be a little less…happy about it."

"Oh, well, my father always used to tell me no matter what I felt inside, I had to put on a good face!" she'd explained in a chipper voice. "So, Teacher, what will we be studying today?"

Zelena was a terrible representative of such great advice. He, on the other hand, would have loved to receive such words from his own father, or even her father, as a way of explaining why he was so good at it!

Part of being the Dark One was putting on a show, acting the part that the individual watching wanted portrayed. He always wanted to be exactly what they thought he was; mysterious, savior, monster, friend, tradesman…it felt a bit like wearing masks he never took off. In fact, sometimes when he looked in the mirror and saw the scales on his face, he forgot entirely that the creature staring back had him had once had smooth skin and white teeth. He played the part so well it was easy to forget there was a time he'd hadn't been this! He played his role well. It suited him. But every now and again part of his old self bled through. Nimue told him that he was patient. But he felt certain that there was a time he hadn't been. Tonight, in particular, was one of those nights.

"The firstborn daughter of Princess Cora would be the one to cast the curse."

Princess Cora.

Perhaps he'd missed something in that hint.

Zelena was talented, there was no doubt about that, nor was there any doubt in his mind that she would continue to be talented. But the feeling that something was wrong with her never eased or settled, and it certainly never went away. In fact, over the last few weeks, that feeling had only gotten worse, growing with every additional minute they spent together. Though Zelena was able to master everything that he taught her, usually in a matter of hours, if not minutes, a disturbing new trend had emerged.

"Can Regina do that?"

"How long did it take my sister to master that?"

"Have you taught this to Regina?"

The questions about her sister seemed never to end, and he was beginning to feel like he'd probably analyzed Regina far more in the past few weeks with her sister than he had during the eighteen years he'd watched her from a distance. And he wasn't pleased now as to how that analysis had come about.

Once, just to test her, he'd commented that he first time he'd seen Regina do great magic, he'd been so impressed it left him completely and utterly breathless. He watched carefully for her reaction, just to see what she would do with such information. It hadn't been pretty.

Her face had fallen immediately as she assumed that look of an upset toddler who had their toy taken away. Her brows had furrowed together as though she'd been about to cry, despite the step he'd taken very purposefully away from her, she'd taken two steps closer, and a sudden wild eagerness appeared in her eyes.

"What did she do?" she demanded. "Tell me, and I'll do it! I'll show you that I can be just as good as she can! I can be better!"

Against his better judgment, he kept a stoic face and took another step away from her again. She'd reached out to touch him, but he wasn't about to let her. He wanted to see what happened when she had nothing to cling to.

"It's not likely," he commented matter-of-factly. It was the truth. Unless Zelena was hiding long lost love away somewhere he wasn't aware of and had a mother that was likely to rip his heart out, then it wasn't something she could recreate. It was the truth, but he would admit that he'd stated it mysteriously and cold hearted on purpose.

"Why not?! I can do it!" she insisted. "I promise, just tell me! Tell me what it was! Tell me!"

And then the oddest thing happened. A small patch of green began to bloom. A reaction like that to emotion was rare. So rare that he'd only ever read about but never seen, none of the Dark Ones ever had. Magical Theory stated that each emotion had its own color, and if it overwhelmed the wrong magical being, it could change the color of the skin. Red for anger, Blue for sadness, green with envy. He wasn't sure just how much jealousy an individual had to have in order to turn themselves green unintentionally, but if the look on Zelena's face and the volume of her shrieks meant anything, it was a lot. And yet it hadn't taken hardly anything to move Zelena into that "a lot". It wasn't the positive sign he'd been hoping for, but it was a sign that told him all he needed to know. She could be dangerous.

"It was a unique situation," he finally admitted to her. "The details of that situation cannot be replicated. Shall we work on spells of transformation? I have a feeling that you'll do exceedingly well with that."

Instantly, as if her corset had been loosed and air let into her lungs, a small, shy smile crossed her face.

"Have you worked on that with Regina?" she asked in a small voice.

"No, I don't think she's got the ability to work that kind of magic." At least not yet, but seeing as he was trying to calm her, he wasn't about to admit that.

Her smile grew and some of the green began to shrink and disappear. "Okay. Let's try it!"

The firstborn of Princess Cora…he wished that small spark of jealousy was all that he saw within her, the only problem that she had, but the truth was that her habit of stepping closer when he stepped away was even more suspect in his mind. At first, he'd moved away from her subconsciously, feeling overly crowded by her when she was too close. That was a natural thing he did, moving away from people. He even did it with Jefferson. But eventually, he'd noticed that moving away from Zelena never seemed to end! He took one step back, and she took two forward. One step away, two closer. One step farther, two more to close the distance. They ended up starting the lesson in one clearing, and by the time they were finished they'd moved so much they were in another!

And then there were the things that she said when he met her for lessons, whether it was in his castle or the woods or the village.

"Oh, good! I was beginning to worry!"

"I thought you'd forgotten me!"

"It seems like it's been forever since I last saw you!"

"I missed you."

He had a fear, a truly great one, as he began to weigh the pros and cons of which sister he needed to cast the curse. It was born of something that he saw in her eyes every time they were around one another, and it had him wondering…the firstborn of Princess Cora would cast the curse. Other than her power, there was little else about her that seemed to fit the prophecy. And even worse, if what he thought was happening truly was then she could never take him to the other realm as Regina could. But he had to know for sure. He had a long life ahead of him; he wasn't about to spend it wondering…

He'd been planning something, a trap or a trick, whichever it turned out to be to understand her better and potentially confirm his suspicions. He was hopeful he'd deploy it in the next week but now, standing in his Great Room and seeing the feast that she'd laid out when she wasn't asked nor welcome when they weren't training…it sent a chill down his spine. Perhaps sooner was better than later.

"I don't remember giving permission for guests," he commented as he walked in. White tablecloth, a meal with all the accouterments, even dessert. And to top it all off he was genuinely surprised to see her so some how she'd found her way passed his defensive spells. He would have to make those better.

"That's for you," she stated proudly. "Meat pie. Just like the spinsters used to make when you were a boy."

And it looked wonderful, but…suddenly he found himself nervous. He had the feeling that this nearly confirmed his suspicions without his test. He knew that tone she was using, he recognized the desperation of it combined with her actions. He hadn't expected to have second thoughts about all of this, but now he did. What had he invited into his life? What did Zelena love above all else? Regina was still out on business with the King. It would be easy to find out if he was right.

"Can't stay. Have a lesson to teach," he replied with shortness on purpose, walking right past her without giving her any kind of gratification, compliment, or reassurance to hold onto. He wanted to see what she'd do. She didn't know it, but he was teaching the lesson now.

"But-but we just finished a lesson!" she whined, her footsteps echoing after his own. All bad signs. If this was part of the test so far she was floundering.

"Not with you, dearie," he corrected, turning around just so he could see her face when he said the next bit. "With Regina." Instantly her gaze turned to fire. Her smile disappeared with it. There was red on her cheeks as though she might burst into tears, it was as if he'd just told her she couldn't play with her favorite toy anymore and quietly, slowly he began to build magic up in his body, just in case he needed some defensive spells.

"You're still training her?" she sneered.

"Did you think I was going to stop?" he presumed before taking a risk and turning his back on her. He'd bared taken a single step before he heard her footsteps, and she appeared before him.

"Wait!" she cried, grabbing his arms. "You don't need Regina. I'm going to cast your curse!" she declared as she let him go. Then the smell of magic, hers, penetrated the air. "She's not nearly as powerful as me! She doesn't deserve to have you teaching her!"

"Careful, Zelena!" he roared in a tone he hadn't used since Bae was a little boy. It was appropriate. She was nearly in tears, rambling on as if she were a two-year-old having a tantrum. She was behaving like a child. "What was it your father used to always tell you?" he questioned, trying to remind her about how to control herself. If she wasn't careful, she'd bring down the ceiling with all that power.

She took a couple of breaths as her eyes roamed over the room as if searching for the right words, and it was then that he spotted it again. A small green patch just below her jaw. At first it started as no more than a dot, no bigger than the nail on his thumb, but as Zelena struggled, he watched as it grew.

"No matter what you feel on the inside, you always have to put on a good face."

"You might wanna take his advice," he urged. "Your inside is starting to show." As if she could feel it, she immediately put her hand to that place, and he wondered for the first time if she could feel it or if she'd done this before as a girl. Her first instinct was to run right to the mirror in the room and remove it's covering. She examined the spot on her neck with panic. "You're turning green, dearie. Envy will do this to you," he explained. "And don't wait up. This could take a while."

He chose to vanish then instead of calm her as he always had. The truth was if he was right, he had the feeling this was going to be a very short lesson indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we are at the eve of Zelena's downfall. I'm so sorry if you were looking for more with Zelena, in a perfect world I would have been able to expand exponentially of Rumple's time during this fiction. But as this fiction continued to grow to unbelievable proportions it was clear that I had to stick to the script. I had to keep to scenes that I knew were important and not waste time with "filler chapters" if I could help it. This scene was nice though because it was so tiny it did allow me to attach some of the background to it. With that background we can begin to see Zelena unraveling.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Thank you for choosing to spend part of your time reading with me! Zelena's big test is coming up next, after that we get pretty great Jefferson chapters. So if Zelena isn't your cup of tea, never fear, Jefferson is on the way! Peace and Happy Reading!


	52. A Failed Test

Zelena might have reminded him of a crazed child, but unfortunately, she was also a smart child, which meant that he had to plan accordingly. When he left he appeared in Regina's room as he'd told her but cast a spell ensuring that the young witch wouldn't be able to break into a mirror or use a cauldron to spy on him. After that he waited. And snooped a bit. With Regina safely out on a diplomatic mission and Zelena unaware, he had to be sure to take enough time that she'd believe he was with her, teaching her. To his own interest as he looked around the room, he found a small hand mirror sitting on her vanity. There were stains on it that he recognized. Tears. She'd been crying lately. That was important information…and maybe something else. To fill his time he waved his hand to work his magic. He hydrated the little plop he found then carefully pulled the tear from the mirror and stuck it in a vial with a preservation spell for a rainy day. While he was there he also made sure to collect samples of her hair. He never did like to see anything go to waste. When his work was done, and he was certain it was enough time to leave the girl's skin green, he took himself back to his castle, to his Tower, and wasn't surprised to hear breathing at the steps that he knew didn't come from Jefferson. She was there, waiting, listening for his return. She was waiting for him to settle. So he sat down in front of his wheel and gave it a turn, hard enough for the squeaks to confirm to her that he was there and working hard on something that wasn't Regina or Zelena. And then he heard the sound of the door at the bottom of the stairs close, and he knew it was time.

He had to work fast. He had only a hunch and a hope that she'd prepare herself before taking off but had no promises how long her preparations would take. In the blink of an eye he imagined himself standing in Regina's room, and then he was there. He sat down quickly at the vanity and performed a simple glamour spell to give the illusion that he was Regina just back from a lesson with her teacher, preparing innocently enough for bed. He picked up the brush he'd just taken her hair from and held back a laugh at how strange and elaborate this was before closing his eyes to attempt to find out how long this was going to take.

Over the long years he'd gotten better at all of this, at seeing the future on demand, but usually it only came in flashes. It was, after all, a power that had never been meant for him, and it still showed when he used it. He often felt like he was fighting with it rather than using it. But as he concentrated, he could see something. Flashes, just like always, but not exactly what he'd wanted to see.

_He saw the color green, he saw a razor blade, the shoes Zelena always wore, Jefferson saying "I'll try again soon", and then he had a feeling, a pain in his chest like his heart was being squeezed, and a small vial in a fair-skinned hand. He had the sensation of wanting that vile though he couldn't quite figure out why or when or even-_

She'd been faster than even he had thought she might be. It was barely two minutes since he'd arrived and begun playing the role of his less talented student that he felt a flare of magic behind him and was pulled out of his vision. He knew the real Regina wouldn't have felt that magic yet. A pity, really. One day she'd get there, but it wasn't any time soon. Still, this proved that he was better off to use her than Zelena for as she crept up on him while he brushed the copy of Regina's hair, he knew that he'd gotten it wrong.

Regina was the one, even in her imperfection.

He put on a good show for Zelena. Gasping the moment that he felt Zelena throw her hands around him and put a razor blade to his neck.

"Don't make a sound," she hissed into the mirror at Regina, her face hideous and contorted with rage and mania. And still there to see, a green neck. If she thought this would do away with that, she was sorely mistaken. "Rumpelstiltskin is wasting his time with you. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve any of this. Our mother couldn't see, and neither can he. But I'll show them they're wrong!"

And with that, she plunged the blade deep into Regina's neck, an injury the Queen certainly wouldn't survive but one the Dark One wouldn't have feared. Still…that didn't mean it wasn't painful, and he was quick to use magic to ease that pain and end the illusion. He laughed as he revealed himself to her, laughed as her face fell and her eyes filled with panic and confusion when he pulled the blade from his neck and concentrated his magic there to heal himself before even a trickle of blood could escape. He'd been careless with his blood once before around her mother, it wasn't something he was likely to do again around either of her daughters.

"Surprise, dearie! As I always said, jealousy drives people to do-" he rose and tossed the blade onto the dresser "-crazy things."

Test complete. As he walked away, replaying her words in his head, there was no doubt in his mind anymore. She couldn't cast the curse. At least, she couldn't cast it and take him with her. Spending time on her was useless.

"You tricked me."

"Consider it a test. One you failed," he dismissed.

"Yeah, but…I was just trying to make your decision easier. And show you that I'm all powerful. That I'm the one who's going to cast your curse!" she cried, her footsteps echoing after him. It was a childish response for a woman who would always be a girl. A girl desperate for her father's love. A girl trying to prove she was more than she seemed. A girl who wanted nothing more than to have someone love her. Prince Henry might not have been Cora's first choice, but he had to give the man credit, in loving Regina, he had spared her from becoming what Zelena was and given him the ability to have Regina cast the curse.

"I appreciate your efforts, dearie, but I'm afraid you just disqualified yourself," he explained snooping through Regina's things some more.

"What? Why?" she whined.

"Because casting the curse has a price. A steep one. You have to give up the thing you love most."

"I can do that," she smiled eagerly, taking those predictable steps toward him. She still didn't realize that every step betrayed her.

"That's the problem, dearie. The thing you love most is me."

In her own defense, she didn't blush like a teenage girl would have or let on any indication that he'd just embarrassed her. Instead, she laughed and took half of one step away from him as she shook her head in disbelief.

"You think I love you?"

"I'm a perceptive soul," he commented. There were all kinds of love, many different forms it could take. But it was clear as the only person that had ever taken her seriously or shown interest in her she had latched on to him. As a daughter, as a lover, as some grand romantic gesture, it didn't matter how at the moment. She'd been willing to kill Regina to keep him from being invested in anyone but her. She loved him. And that meant she couldn't cast the curse.

"You're insane," Zelena declared, too immature to see his own logic. Well…she wasn't wrong.

"Besides the point. Dearie, it's okay. I know, I have that effect on women. You love me and that, dearie, makes you too dangerous," he concluded.

"So…Regina…"

He stepped closer to get a good look at her neck as he said the next words. "Has the job."

He let out a high-pitched laugh as exactly what he thought might happen did. The green grew! It was a fascinating reaction, one that reminded him a bit of his own transformation into this beast. Only her own was preventable.

"You might wanna get that checked," he remarked.

"Forget the curse. I'll find another way to give you what you want!" she assured him.

He laughed. There was nothing he wanted. He wasn't interested in friendship nor companionship; he had gold and jewels at his disposal, more power than he could ever ask for, the only thing he didn't have was his son. And he wasn't about to expose Bae to Zelena once he got there, not if tonight had been any indication. No, if Zelena didn't go back to where he came from and remove herself from the path of Regina's Curse, he would have to do it for her. One good fist to her heart, and it would be done. He had the feeling the world would be a better place for it.

"Unless you can take me to a Land Without Magic, I'm afraid that's not possible."

He was trying to dismiss her, trying to get rid of her, to turn his back and give her the opportunity to strike so that he could strike first but she just-

"I can."

He turned back. Had he heard those words right? She could? Or she would? There were differences. One he was interested in, the other he was not, not after this. His way to Baelfire was through Regina. Not Zelena.

"I could have taken you there," she responded.

He looked her up and down, glanced over her ordinariness, and had the feeling she was posturing again. She just didn't want to lose him. This was nothing.

"How?" he challenged.

"These slippers," she looked down and raised the gown that she was wearing to reveal the shoes she'd come in, and suddenly he thought to wonder why she hadn't changed them since she'd arrived. She'd acquired clothes, jewelry, hats even…why hadn't she changed her shoes? And why hadn't he pressed how she had gotten from Oz to here harder? "The Wizard gave them to me, and they can take you anywhere you want to go."

Anywhere…

"Wizard…"

"But it's too late," she went on. She was walking toward him again, but now her steps were not eager; they were threatening. Her lips curled back over her teeth in a snarl like she so often bared when Regina was mentioned.

"Who said it's too late?" he questioned quickly, working up magic inside of himself to immobilize her so he might take those shoes and examine them.

"You chose her."

"Perhaps it was haste."

"I'm not naïve!" she spat back quickly. This time, when he took a step back, it was because the snake was showing her fangs. Love could come in many forms, but in each and every one it was delicate. One wrong move could damage it; one wrong word could break it. He was a fool, he'd forgotten that, and it was obvious now, he'd broken it.

"There's only one way you'll ever get these slippers from me. You'll have to kill me…"

Well, there was a surprise. The child truly wasn't naïve. And there was the hope. What she'd felt for him, he'd never felt for her, and so he wouldn't shed a single tear at her death.

"Well…if I must."

He summoned up his magic and leaped forward to throw a spell at her, but she was gone from view before he could attack.

"You shouldn't have taught me all your tricks, Rumple!" she called from the high ceilings. "I'll see you again…dearie! And next time, you will choose me!"

He moved to gather his magic again, but before he could form a single spell, she'd disappeared in a haze of green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Farewell Zelena for a season or two or three. Like I said, there is still one more chapter left in this 3x16 series, but that's the last of Zelena we'll see for a while. It's a pretty straight forward chapter but it was a bitch to write. When you watch you get the feeling that Zelena goes to kill her sister the second Rumple says he's going to see her but I had to stop at some point and think "wait, if she knows Rumple is there, she can't go kill Regina or else he'd see and be angry with her." That was the reason for all the running around Rumple had to do in the beginning.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I hope you don't mind that I expanded it to conveniently include Rumple acquiring Regina's tear from the second season. Considering the rest of Regina's plot this seemed to be the best spot to put that little gem. I really didn't want him to have to take it off of her when she was crying to pulling it from a mirror seemed reasonable enough. Peace and Happy Reading!


	53. If At First You Don't Succeed...

Zelena was gone that much he was nearly certain of. He'd searched too long and come up empty too many times to have a fraction of hope that she was still in this world. As much as she'd been in the castle for lessons it wasn't hard to put a locator spell on some hair he'd found that belonged to her. But the spell came up with nothing. It went nowhere. And when he tried to picture her and transport himself to her side…nothing. There was a block of some kind that he felt on his magic, similar to what he felt when he'd tried to go to Bae by magic. That could only mean one thing. The shoes did exactly what she'd said they did. And Zelena was nowhere in this world. And with Jefferson still away at the Emerald City looking for information on her at his own behest, it was clear that there was no way he could go after her. Not unless he found a magic bean, and if he had that, he certainly wouldn't use it to go after Zelena. He'd always believed in the patience he possessed, but now he did even more. For in the one moment he'd been foolhardy it had cost him. A dear cost. With Zelena, the shoes, and Jefferson all gone, and Regina returning from her business with the King, he had no choice but to return to what he'd known before the witch dropped out of the sky.

Regina.

The curse.

The prophecy.

It was a shame, truly it was, that he had lost Zelena when she'd had those shoes on her feet, but the truth was that the events of the last few weeks had only strengthened his belief in the prophecy. The firstborn of Princess Cora. Not Cora _. Princess_ Cora. His former lover was naught but a miller's daughter when he'd met her. If he'd been smart and truly taken the time to consider that he might have seen that Zelena's birth disqualified her from the beginning. She wasn't the firstborn of Princess Cora; she'd been the firstborn of Cora, the Miller's Daughter. But there was more that should have told him it was Regina and not Cora. The hatred he knew was to come between Regina and Snow White…Zelena would never have that. And if she was so instrumental in the future, then why hadn't it been her face he'd seen instead of Regina's when he'd first been delivered the prophecy? It wasn't because no one knew about it, he'd seen a lot of faces that he still didn't know, but not one of those belonged to Zelena. She was unimportant. And he was a fool for thinking that she might have been important.

The loss of the shoes was regrettable, but there was always Jefferson, and in the meantime, he was back to exploring the old trait that he had, the one Nimue so admired, and yet he wished he didn't have if only because it would mean he wouldn't have to use it.

Patience.

He'd come this far; he could go a bit farther in order to make everything right, just as it was supposed to be. It was Baelfire at risk, after all. He needed to remember that first and foremost. This wasn't a project he needed to be hasty about. It wasn't a project to get stuck in or change plans for because he knew at the end of this map, this prophecy, was his son. If he changed courses or changed the future, there was no promise his son would be waiting for him.

So he went back to Regina and began to apply what he'd learned as he taught her. Unlike Zelena, who was powerful but not the right person, he knew what Regina could become with time. And there was time. Snow White, young as she was, would not bear a daughter for some time yet, and that child was equally important to the future he saw. There was plenty of time to twist Regina, to change her, to alter and prepare her for what he needed. And after working with Zelena, he found he had a new appreciation for Regina's adultlike coolness and her stable mind.

"Well, Dearie…have you been practicing?" he questioned upon arriving in her room once more.

Regina beamed, a happy white smile that Zelena, in all her eagerness, could never have comprehended. "Yes!" she proudly exclaimed, rising from her chair. "I have! I can do it now! Just watch."

He wandered closer to her and stood by as he watched Regina close her eyes, her smirk confident and proud. She squared her shoulders once more, took a breath, moved her hand.

Nothing. Just as before.

Her smile faltered as she stared bewildered at her open hand. "It's because you're here! I swear I could do it before! Now I'm just…nervous, I suppose!" she cried as her voice cracked in panic.

Patience.

"Do me a favor," he urged. "Try something with me. Snow White…she has the ability to talk to birds you said."

"Yes!" Regina sighed in exasperation, her eyes automatically rolling. "The chirping is endless! We went on a family picnic the other day, and I thought I would lose my mind! Meanwhile, her father thinks it's an adorable gift and goes on and on about it. Little brat…"

That was the frame of mind he was looking for. That was a kind of envy he could work with, not against.

"I want you to think of this rock as that natural ability," he said as he lifted the pyramid and held the stone in his hand before her. "I want you to believe this is that which you do not have and never will unless you cast a spell over yourself. An ability that she was born with, one that you want, it's over here…" he put the rock back under the pyramid. "It's trapped uselessly in a little girl who can't keep her mouth shut with Cora, or her father, or even the birds. Now…take it from her."

Regina's posture changed as she stared at that pyramid and slowly rose to her feet. Magic sparked in the air, and it didn't smell like his own.

"If you are as powerful as I think you are then you have every ability to-"

He didn't get to finish that sentence. There was no need. Without realizing, Regina had closed her eyes, taken her breath, and summoned the stone into her hand. Her smile returned instantly as she looked at the rock in her hand. What held one sister back could fuel the other. A wonderful lesson for him.

"Well done, Regina," he muttered, placing his hands over her shoulders and offering a gentle squeeze of encouragement. He felt it for himself too. That encouragement was hope. "You've been practicing. You're shaping up to be the best pupil I ever had."

"Really?" Regina smiled in disbelief. It was the polar opposite of what Zelena would have done and how she would have responded. It left him with little doubt and while he still wanted Jefferson to go after those shoes, it eliminated some of the desire he'd felt before the lesson.

"You'll make a very fine Apprentice, I think," he commented in confirmation.

"Apprentice? Me?"

"All the greatest wizards have them, and now…it seems I have found mine."

Magic continued to spark in the air around the room. Confidence, jealousy, rage, desire, power, want…Regina's magic was tied to all of those. Zelena was like Cora, there was no doubt, but Regina was too. She was powerful and so full of potential it left a sweet taste in his mouth. He just had to unbury the potential that Cora had kept hidden from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but necessary. This was also something that we saw but you might have missed it as you blinked. If memory serves correctly, when Zelena gets back to Oz, after she's transformed the Wizard into a monkey she summons up the image of Regina. The scene of Regina getting the rock and Rumple telling her that she's the greatest student he's ever had is what causes her to go full-on green. Like I said, blink and you'd miss it, but it was still important to rounding this story out for Regina.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I have good news and bad news. The good news is that the Jefferson chapters I promised are on their way, the bad news is that according to my posting schedule it's not Jefferson up next. He's coming. Don't worry, and when he comes back we get to see several chapters of him as he plays a really important role in Rumple and Regina's immediate future. But in the next chapter, we get to meet a new character who will be equally important down the line. I really do think you will enjoy her chapter. Anyone up to meet a sea witch? Peace and Happy Reading!


	54. The Sea Witch

Patience was a virtue, and it was his special talent...but that didn't mean he never swayed from it. Yes, he knew, as the Seer told him constantly, that Regina was his way to The World Without Magic. But still, when the nights were long and the days stretched into weeks and months, when patience was hard to find, he couldn't help but seek out alternatives. With Zelena back in Oz, and Regina practicing but only making slow progress with her magic, he used his free time to continue his research, seeking out other answers that might land him in The World Without Magic sooner rather than later. He told himself he was just being cautious, after all, if the shoes existed there might be something else out there in the world that he couldn't overlook. He trusted the Seer, but on the day he finally stood before his son he wanted to be honest with him. He wanted to be able to tell Baelfire that he'd gotten to him as soon as he possibly could, and in his mind, that meant exhausting any and all options he could find until the Seer's distant future came to pass. And besides, a little extra knowledge never hurt.

One night, his research turned up something new: Mermaids.

In reading a book, he was shocked to find that mermaids could travel between realms. Supposedly even to non-magical ones though it was supposedly frowned upon. He didn't particularly care what was appropriate or not in mermaid culture so long as it got him to his son. There was one little hiccup he'd read with that statement though. Apparently, it was difficult, if not impossible, to summon the magic required to take people along with the maids on their voyage. And even if they could summon the magic, there was some question as to whether or not the subject could survive.

That was a small hiccup. But since becoming the Dark One, he'd learned that everything had its loophole. The second issue was easy enough to get around. It threatened that people would not survive the journey. He was immortal. He was certain that if he could find a mermaid to do such a thing, he would be the best candidate to survive. So the problem then was simply finding a mermaid powerful enough to summon enough magic for two.

That had taken some thinking. It had taken some poking and prodding among some merfolk as well before he'd come up with a very unexpected answer.

He felt excitement. But no matter what happened, he was determined not to let anything more than the intelligent dealmaker show on his face tonight. He found her lounging about the rocks in a place called Demon's Bluff. In the distance, he could see a storm churning the waves so that they foamed and sprayed wildly at the rocks he moved about safely, even at this distance. She was staring out at that same storm when he found her, half her body sunk into the water, a small smile on her face as if she were relaxing. When the lightning lit up the distant water, he could see the outline of a vessel being tossed and turned in the chaos. It was doubtful that the sailors would survive. After what he'd heard of her, he was confident the storm was her work.

"Well now…I hear you've been causing trouble all over the realms," he squealed in delight.

She didn't jump, didn't even fidget at the sound of his voice, which let him know that she'd known he was there all along.

"Not causing it…I am trouble. Much like yourself…Rumpelstiltskin."

Finally, she turned, shifting her body so that he could see a large metal object in her hand-the Trident. It was what he'd heard so much about from the other mermen and women he'd talked to. It was a joy to actually see it for himself. But she wasn't looking for him to be impressed by that. It was his name, the way that she'd said it told him she'd wanted him to be surprised that she knew him and wanted him to feel as though she had the upper hand. He could play that role.

"Oh! My reputation precedes me yet again!" he rejoiced clapping his hands together. "Since we're making introductions, allow me to make yours…Queen Ursula!" he stated standing up straight and tall as if he were an announcer at a royal ball. "Formerly Princess, of course, but I understand you fell into your new title not by inheritance but rather by siege. Fear not! I am a man who respects that."

"Respect it all you like," she explained, rolling her eyes and handing the Trident off to a tentacle that had just appeared next to her so she could put her hands on her hips. "I'm not like the other fish in the sea so easily impressed by a little knowledge or even power like your own. I have spies all over these waters, and they say that you've spent quite some time attempting to find me. What is it that you want, exactly?"

"Right to the chase! That's a business plan I can appreciate," he smiled. "As I understand it, you were once far more fishy than…squidy."

"The tentacles are my own choice!"

"No doubt to reflect the character within far more than the goddess you were named for."

"Something like that…" she dismissed, lifting a shoulder. "Mermaids are too…nice. Cecaelia are so much more feared than mermaids."

"A keen observation," he agreed. "Though I imagine you can't quite shed all of what you are despite your transformation. I have a hunch that you've maintained some of your former self in the powers that you hide, powers that are only enhanced by that fork in your little tentacles there. The ability to travel between realms, for example…"

The truth was, the more he had questioned the mermaids of the sea, the more he had found that there would be no convincing even those who he suspected had power enough to take him between worlds. Magical creatures were different than human beings, and he wasn't a threat to them like he was to mortals of his own race. But if he found the right mermaid who had the right weakness, he just might have. The mermaids he'd spoken to had told the tale of Ursula, one right after the other. They all told the tale of the mermaid who had been turned cruel by her father Triton, the rightful ruler of the sea until Ursula had snatched the Trident away from him. According to them, she'd grown tentacles shortly after, but it was only upon seeing her that he realized the magic flowing through them was her own. Her own words a few moments ago had confirmed that. But those mermaids didn't have the ability to understand who or what she really was. The Sea Witch they'd dubbed her. And she acted her part quite well. Nearly as well as he acted his various roles.

"You want a ride?" the Witch asked with dubious disbelief. "The Great and Powerful Dark One…needs the Sea Witch to take him for a ride?"

"I would have worded it differently myself but…more or less…"

She let out a single nasally snort of laughter as she looked him over. "That wording might have been worth it to hear, but the answer will be the same. I can't do it-"

"Because you are unable."

"I didn't say I was unable to do it. I said I can't do it. It's the principle of the thing!"

"The Principle."

"I'm the Sea Witch! The you of the water world! Would you lower yourself to such an indignity?! If I say yes to you, then I have to say 'yes' to everybody, and I don't have the time for that. I have bigger fish to fry."

"Well then…it's fortunate that I came with a back-up plan," he smiled. Before she could furrow her brow or dive back into the ocean, he called the Trident in her tentacle into his hand, and she stared back and forth between him and the place it had once been. "I'll make you a deal…I'll return this to you in exchange for passage…"

She opened her mouth as if to argue with him, but then looked at the Trident in his hand, put her hands back on her hips and smiled. "No, I think you'll return it to me soon."

"And I think that if you truly cared you would keep better hold on your possessions. Last chance…the Trident…for a 'ride'."

No sooner had he finished the words than he felt something spark. Something ran up the metal into his hand, it buzzed and hummed then sparked again as the buzzing and humming intensified, and in no time at all the entire rod was covered in what looked like lightning. He glanced up at Ursula, expecting her to look fearful, but instead, she held her knowing smile.

"No," she stated again.

Suddenly, whatever had been building over the surface of the Trident jumped into his own body with a jolt forcing him to release the item and knocking him back through the air against the rock of the bluff. It had been a long time since someone injured him enough to rattle him, but this had. He hit his head. It was bleeding and he felt disoriented as he was he tried to force the magic he had to the area to correct it. The world was blurry and hazy and spinning and he was seeing in double as a tall woman walked up the beach toward him. Dark skin, walking on two legs, his vision corrected just enough for him to watch as Ursula knelt down to collect her oversized fork before stepping up close to him and kneeling down once more.

"You don't know all Dark One," she whispered. Your magic is strong, but the Trident was handed down by the gods to be passed from generation to generation. It can only be with one of the royal bloodline unless surrendered willingly to another. It'll never be yours. But this was fun, a bit of entertainment to break up the monotony of my day. If you ever want to try again…look me up!"

He would have loved to stop her with his magic, reach out, and crush her neck in his hand just to show her. But apparently, he'd broken more bones than he'd realized when he was thrown against the rocks and as he used his magic to heal himself he watched as tentacles rose out from underneath her skirt again, one taking the Trident once more, before she stepped back into the ocean and disappeared.

Odd. Angry as he was, the moment she left he had a feeling, a whisper from the Seer.

This wasn't the last time they'd meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got very little information as to how Ursula and Rumple knew about each other prior to the Queen's of Darkness thing. In fact, the only information we actually got from them was that they did know of each other. Now, I suppose I could have left all to simply be explained by reputation, but the idea of that bored me. Besides, when they first meet each other Ursula seems to have far too much contempt for him than just "I've heard of you." Admittedly, not as much contempt as Maleficent, but contempt all the same. So, I came up with this nice little chapter as an introduction for the pair of them. In a way, it also serves to remind you of that little discussion we had about the Seer not long ago, about how one day he will come to trust her more but until then he sort of wavers. He learned in the last chapter that it's Regina he needs to cast the curse and one might take that and say "okay, everything she says is right," but he continually looks for other ways to get around her. So he knows her power, but he's not really to a place of acceptance or compliance yet.
> 
> Thank You RolfB for your comments. I'm happy that the inclusion of that scene, whether remembered or not, was a good solid end to the Zelena arc. We're about to start the next arc and it's one that you couldn't possibly have missed. It's one that drove me absolutely crazy because when I finally pulled the scenes apart bit by bit they just didn't make sense. Not even in the normal "oh this is something that changed over the course of three seasons" way, no this was more of a "what you are saying now is completely different than what you were saying seven episodes ago!" How are we going to put it all together? Slowly. And with a lot of crossed fingers that it all makes sense in the end. Peace and Happy Reading!


	55. The Thing She Loved Most At Present

Regina didn't require finessing like Zelena had. She was raw. Still very much a girl in a woman's body, she wore her emotions on her sleeve with very little sense about how to hide those emotions that could help her. When he spied on her at their royal family gatherings, she smiled. But it was easy to see the smile was of no worth. It held no substance, no reflection of the true emotion a smile should. It looked as though it had been sewn on any time that she was in the presence of the King and Snow White, and yet, whether they simply ignored it or couldn't believe what they were seeing, most seemed to pretend as though that smile didn't exist. When Regina saw her father, on the other hand, her eyes lit up properly. She all too willingly freed herself from her new family's embrace and went to his side, crying out "Daddy!" and kissing him happily on the cheek. A true and genuine smile; it almost made him feel sorry for the man, for he alone knew what Regina did not yet. If the books and the stories were right, then this curse would require a sacrifice and not one of a bird or goat, as so many practitioners assumed. To want to do this, to cause such pain and anguish to others required pain and anguish be spent. It would require the heart of what Regina loved most. Her father. He saw it every time the pair of them flashed in front of his eyes. She loved her father more than anything in the world…or at least she would.

At the moment, Regina did love her father more than anything in the world, with the exception of one "thing" in particular. It was her love of this "thing" that was driving his interest in another world, that was providing him with a need for a certain doctor and his experiment. He was forming a plan. He had to. Because presently, the thing that Regina loved more than anything in the world, including her husband, her step-daughter, even her father, lay inside the family mausoleum.

Daniel. He was the problem. A much bigger problem than it appeared and growing bigger day by day. In truth, it would have been easier for him to just let her heartbreak take its course. Daniel was dead. There was no hope of ever bringing him back no matter how much he suspected that was really what Regina was after. But it was soon clear to him that he couldn't allow it. This connection she had, this desire, it had begun to affect his work. He knew it, even if Regina claimed that she didn't.

For months they'd been working on her magic. And to be fair, she was getting better. Aside from knowing how to brew some simple potions, reverse blood magic, and call small objects to her side, now she was appearing and disappearing. Apparition, the books called it, the ability to transport oneself around the world via magic. It was helpful. It was important. The King and his staff kept Regina busy, and they were still grasping at any time they could for learning magic, two minutes here, ten minutes there, finally, he'd given in and begun to teach her the art of it. To his delight, Regina learned it almost as quickly as he could teach it, and the reason became obvious. Using magic was about motivation. Regina, who hated the castle and the life that she was living, was desperate to get away. Just as he'd explained when he'd taught her to move the rock, she came to find that being able to transport herself away whenever she desired meant freedom. As he observed her, he recalled how Cora had been unable to appear anywhere unless it was back to her Prince's castle for the longest time. Now it made sense. It was because at the heart of it all, she'd always been right where she wanted to be. It just wasn't so with Regina.

And soon, with her new abilities, he found that the amount of time they could spend together increased. It didn't matter where the King took her, or what her schedule was; when she had two minutes alone she could simply transport herself to his castle and they could have a lesson. It was becoming such a regular thing that he began to keep the mirror with the direct link to Regina with him in the room. This way he had a hint of when she might be arriving as well as when people on the other end would begin pounding on the door for her to open it and she could return. It was a marvelous little trick she'd mastered…but unfortunately, that was where it stopped for him.

It wasn't just that he expected more from her after working with Zelena, but he expected more working with anyone. He'd worked with Cora, who had been happy to embrace her power and moved at a well-timed pace in learning it. He'd worked with Zelena who excelled at everything. Regina had that same potential, but lately, her learning seemed stunted. Months of learning and all she had to show for it was a rock, potions, and a cloud of smoke that cleared into her smiling face whenever she arrived at his home. She was more powerful than her mother, he could feel it every time he walked in the room, but her heart wasn't as in it as she declared it was. It made him wonder, did she know what her own problem was? Or was she as clueless as she claimed to be?

It was Daniel. It was Daniel that was holding her back. Because while his goal was a curse beyond belief, hers was to resurrect her lost love and enjoy blessings beyond belief. It didn't work that way. She had to get in touch with emotions far greater than she even knew and yet sometimes in the middle of a lesson she got a distant look in her eyes or went weepy and he knew that the only emotions she felt were sadness and hopefulness. That simply didn't help his situation. Something had to be done. He had to confront her about it, had to force her to see what he saw. So he did what any good teacher would do. He called her bluff.

A fireball was a useful piece of magic, a useful tool to keep handy. Not only useful for starting fires, they could be used for defense, intimidation, even light if one were so inclined. The tools needed to make a fireball in one's hand were simple ones: hate, power, confidence, and desire. If she was truly as unhappy as she said she was, as miserable as she claimed to be, then fireballs should be no problem for her and yet…

He watched as time after time her hand came up empty. In the beginning, when he'd first taught her, it had sparked a couple of times. Now…there was nothing but her fretting about being unable to do what she needed to do.

"It takes hate, Dearie!" he chanted at her in his tower as he let the ball before him rotate in his hand. "Hate and desire!"

"Well, maybe I don't have enough hate!" she harrumphed before snapping her own arms straight as arrows at her side. Her hands were in fists. Clearly, she was angry, but not angry enough because it wasn't the primary emotion. He wanted her to name it. To name that emotion would be to own it, to perhaps put this behind them so they could move on. So he pushed.

"Oh, it's the hate that you have plenty of Dearie!" he screamed at her. "Your mother, your husband, your step-daughter; you have hate in abundance, what you lack, I believe, is desire."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Are you really? Or…" he closed his fist over the ball in his hand and appeared behind her, just over her shoulder. "Are you somewhere else?" he questioned in a sing-song voice.

Regina shook her head. "You taught me everything I know if I was somewhere else, wouldn't you be the first person to know it?"

"Oh, true enough, you are no projection, Regina. But…there is something blocking your heart…"

"What?"

"There is something blocking your heart!" he cried making her jump. "There is something that is stopping you from accessing all that hate you need, something that stops you from wanting exactly what you need to want."

Suddenly Regina went rigid in a way she hadn't been before. He was close enough to hear her breath hitch as she turned to face him. Her eyes were wide, and one of her hands was over her heart in fear.

"Something my mother-"

"Not your mother, dearie!" he spat, shaking his head in irritation. "If it was your mother's spell, we could remove it easily! The problem is you! You've placed that block there! Because even though you may be here with me, your heart is somewhere else." He stepped closer to her, so close he could feel her chest against his own as he put his lips close to her ear and whispered: "in the mausoleum perhaps?"

She gave a little gasp and jumped back at the pronouncement, and he let his eyes go wide with understanding before she shook her head, dropped her arms, and walked to the tower window.

"I don't know what you are talking about…"

"Well then, that's a pity!" he growled. "Because until you are ready to address that wandering heart of yours, then all is for naught!"

"I'm getting better!" she whined.

"But you are not dedicated!"

Again, the girl huffed at him, staring in false disbelief as she tried to keep a straight face. Even she knew she was lying.

"I'm dedicated!" she shouted, striding over to him. "I show up here every last second I get! I can cross the realm in a blink of an eye! What more do I need to do to prove it to you?"

"Make fire!" he roared back. "You claim you are dedicated simply because you can take yourself from one place to another, but magic is about more than convenience and power is about more than being polite! Have you managed, with any success, taking something besides yourself out of the castle a great distance?"

"Well…no, not really, but I don't know what to-"

"Have you practiced immobilization of an individual? Frozen time? Practiced anything outside of moving a stone from under a box into your hand."

"It's hard to do!"

"Have you practiced?!"

He yelled it so loud that she jumped, then drew her hands around her torso as she swallowed, opened her mouth-

And closed it again. Her silence was all that was needed to answer his question, and they both knew it.

"This concludes your lesson for today. Sometime between now and the next time we meet, figure out where you are Regina, or it's best we don't meet at all. I don't need my time wasted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time viewers of the show will know where we are going with this chapter. I know it was nothing we saw in the show but I use it here as an introduction to a certain storyline that is coming up down the road. But, if I'm honest, this chapter was really important to me on a personal level during the binge read. There was something I struggled with in this fiction, something that I questioned and debated on the entire year and a half it took me to write it. It was the relationship between Rumple and Regina. I hemmed and hawed for a long time as to whether or not this section needed a good Rumple/Regina bonding moment. Spoiler alert, I did decide against it. During the binge read, this chapter was crucial in helping me think I made the right decision. Why? Why do I think that a chapter dedicated to their relationship is such a bad thing? Especially when we saw how close they are in later seasons?! Well, two reasons that sort of go hand in hand. Zelena and Prince Henry. Rumple knows that he needs Regina to cast the curse, he knows that in order to get her to cast it she needs to take the heart of the thing she loves most. The thing Regina loves most at this moment is her dad. I think he would keep his distance in order to keep it that way, especially just coming off of Zelena. For now, my opinion is that he will try to keep her at arm's length to ensure that what happened with Zelena doesn't happen with Regina. He wants to keep it strictly student/teacher with her for now. And, in my opinion, the story supports that. Beyond their education they sort of have a strange and distant relationship, sometimes hating each other as much as they admire one another. It's only later, in Storybrooke, once Henry is dead and gone that they seem to really develop that father/daughter bond. Apologies if you disagree.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments. This time I'm totally honest with you when I say that Jefferson is coming up next! In the next chapter, we finally get to see Rumple go on an excursion with our Mad Hatter. If you know roughly where we are in the storyline then you know where we're going and who we'll be meeting in the chapters ahead! Let's get started! Peace and Happy Reading!


	56. Into the Hat

"Oz is officially under new management," Jefferson proclaimed, stepping into his tower after nearly a month away. It never ceased to amaze him just how swiftly and easily the boy could appear and disappear and reappear and act as though nothing had happened. A lot had happened. But he seemed only interested in discussing what had happened in Oz and not what had happened in his own world. Not that he minded, of course, the Dark One never was one for talking.

"New management, you say?" as Jefferson plopped down in the easy chair by the tower fire and began to spread out as though he hadn't seen a cushion in a lifetime. Maybe he hadn't. Who knew where he'd been sleeping. It wasn't his concern.

"Wizard has gone missing, not long after you sent me actually. No one knows where he is, but the woman who has taken up residence in the Emerald City is a woman who calls herself the Wicked Witch."

"Interesting."

"Indeed, especially since she matches the décor so well. Word on the street is that this witch is green."

"Green?"

"Supposedly," he shrugged. "I gotta say, I always thought the Wizard was a fraud, but this girl seems to be the real deal. She's a fan of flying around on a magic broom, and she keeps a flying monkey with her. Now, the people of Oz are all saying it's different things, but I have a different theory. If you ask me, I say that someone finally taught the old Wizard a magic lesson that ended badly."

"Well…" he sighed, walking over to sit in the chair opposite the boy. "I have no reason to dispute your theory, only reason to trust it."

"I'll take that as a vote of confidence," Jefferson shrugged, reaching up to pull the hat off his head. He was tired. He could see that in the way he was flopped over the sofa right now, his head back looking at the ceiling. He had a feeling that if he left him there too long, he might fall asleep.

"I don't suppose you found out anything about the young lady I sent you there for."

"Zelena…daughter of a woodcutter in his good ole days and a drunk in most recent ones. The girl was missing. The drunk was dead. Apparently, without the girl there to keep him, he drank himself to death. I found him buried beside his wife, who died earlier of some disease. No one had any idea where Zelena had gone, but a couple said she was bound to run away someday. They seemed quite relieved to be honest. Her father sounds like he was a real piece of work and they said the girl was always a bit 'odd'. Their words, not mine."

"Mmm…"

"Oh," he muttered, suddenly sitting up. "I'm sorry, I tried to get into the castle, but I was only successful the first couple of times, before the Wicked Witch took over. Afterward, security increased. Turns out flying monkeys make better guards than humans. Go figure. I'll try again soon."

That was…disappointing. But it wasn't defeating. After the way things ended with Zelena and then Ursula, he was invested in Regina again and had taken to recognizing the strength of what he had instead of what he hadn't. Jefferson, irritating as the boy was, was a profitable relationship in a number of ways. But up against Zelena, he was just a man with a magical hat. He'd rather no information from him than lose Jefferson to Zelena's rage. Not that he'd ever admit that to him, of course. Jefferson's head was big enough; he didn't need it to get bigger. Nor did he need him to think that he enjoyed it when the lad chose to stay in the castle between jumping realms. He didn't enjoy it. But at a time like this, he had to admit it was conveinent, to say the least.

As for Zelena…well she was certainly one to keep an eye on, but from a distance. He had a feeling that she wasn't about to rear her head at him for a while, especially not after taking control of the Land of Oz. No, that wasn't her style. He'd hear from her again one day, but he didn't think it would be for a while. And as for how…he hadn't a clue. The witch was crazy enough to come up with anything, and trying to get into her head was something he'd rather not do when he had access to Regina, the proper sister.

He had yet to tell Regina about Zelena and likely he never would tell her. He didn't see the point. For his purposes, he felt that she'd work better without knowing, and for her own purposes, he felt she was better off without that relationship. He would rather focus on the relationships that Regina had now; those that she had and needed to build, those that needed a little more poison, and those that she needed to leave behind for good. Which served as a reminder...

"Good…in the meantime, I 'd like you to take me someplace."

Jefferson's eyes, which had been closed in the silence, suddenly popped open and he looked down his chest at him. "You?" he questioned with surprise before sitting up. "I'm finally taking you with me?"

"So it would seem," he confirmed. "There is a deal I'm going to have to make in the future, and I believe it's time to begin the process."

"Alright," Jefferson said, shooting to his feet and holding tight to his hat. "Where are we going?"

His Youth was astounding. Five seconds ago the boy looked as though he'd been about to fall asleep, now he was bright-eyed and practically chomping at the bit to go back into the hat. He couldn't ever remember having that much energy and wondered if it was something specific to Realm Jumpers. Where they all like this, or was it just his Realm Jumper?

He ignored his inner questions to focus on Jefferson's question. He had to know where he wanted to go in order to take him there. In a flash, he summoned to him the stethoscope he'd brought him from another world.

"Him?!" Jefferson blanched.

"Him," he confirmed with a smile. "The doctor you told me about, the one trying to resurrect the dead, I want you to take me to him."

Jefferson nodded. "Sure…if he's still working, I can take you to him right now, but if not-"

"If?" he demanded. Jefferson had never given him an "if" before.

"Financial problems," he explained, his energy ebbing. "I told you the guy is nuts, thinks he can bring someone back from the dead, no one will fund him. If he still has the lab, I know where he is but if not-"

"Well, then it sounds like he needs a benefactor with no time to lose."

"Are you serious?" he asked. He didn't answer, just sent the stethoscope away and continued to stare at him with determination. "You are serious. Alright…your investments are your business, and who am I to question when they have benefited me so...selfishly."

"Who indeed, shall we?"

He shrugged, rubbed his eyes, and nodded. "No rest for the weary…let's go."

Portals still scared him. What an in informative discovery. He'd seen Jefferson come and go by way of that hat before and he knew what the portal looked like, but it amazed him that the moment it opened up he heard Baelfire's voice, saw his face, felt the dagger digging into his skin as he held on tight, unwilling to jump into the abyss. His heart was hammering, pounding against his chest, and the clothes he wore were threatening to etch an outline into his skin.

"You alright?"

Jefferson's voice sounded as though it was underwater and far away, and choosing to focus on it instead of the portal swirling around his tower, made him feel as though he'd just been doused in it. He felt cold suddenly, his skin thick and clammy as he pulled his gaze away from it to focus on the boy next to him who appeared confused and worried.

It was ridiculous. He was the bloody Dark One. He wasn't afraid of anything and that meant he wasn't afraid of portals. And even if he was, he wasn't about to let Jefferson see that he was.

"Just having a second thought!" he commented, moving across the room to a table. From it, he pulled out a drawstring bag filled with gold coins that he had intended to give to Jefferson. The boy could wait, though, The Doctor might not be able to. "Wouldn't want to be unprepared!" he joked before moving back to the portal.

"If you say so," Jefferson shrugged before looking back at the portal. "Without further ado then."

Without further ado…they jumped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but you guessed it...one of my favorites because it really shows off that Jefferson/Rumple relationship. As always we can see a bit more insight into them and see how Rumple has to forcefully convince himself he doesn't like him. "I won't admit I like it when you stay in the castle, because I don't, I tell you, I don't!" Riiiight. You're trying just a bit too hard to convince us of that Rumple.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your very kind comments on that the last chapter. I'm glad that was an okay way to finish it all off and now we find out if you are right in your guess. Did you know we were off to the Land Without Color already! I really love the next chapter, not just because it's a Rumple/Jefferson adventure chapter, but because we get to see Jefferson in his element and Rumple sort of finding his own. I do think you'll like it in the end, now I just have to see if I can smooth out the bumps in this storyline. Peace and Happy Reading!


	57. Investing in Talent

Inside the hat was a world of its own. He hadn't expected that. In some part of his mind, he'd always thought that the portal worked like other portals did and would take him right to the door of the Doctor's house like his transportation spells did. Of course, he had no actual experience of his own using Jefferson's hat, only theories, a single experience to Neverland with his father, and a vision in his mind of what Bae had gone through. It wasn't at all like what had happened when he'd jumped through a portal with his father, and somehow he knew that whatever Baelfire had experienced, this wasn't it.

They jumped not into a world, but a room. The room was large and circular, covered in dark colors but with plenty of light that allowed him to see what was all around him: doors. Different doors. Doors of different colors, materials, sizes, shapes, some that couldn't even be called "doors". One was simple gold-trimmed green curtains, the letters "O" and "Z" on either side. Oz. Well, he'd be damned…Zelena's tale was true. Another door was made of bricks but bore no trace of a name. Another door was made of some kind of gray metal. And another seemed to be a mirror, he could look right through it to another path and a land of-

"Oh, careful with that one," Jefferson warned. "Wonderland…you don't want to go there."

"Certainly not."

So that was the land that now held Cora. Odd path, blue sky, funny large plants…there was a strange quality to it. But he had no interest in a reunion and therefore, no interest in Wonderland. He did however have an interest in the door that Jefferson was standing by. It was gray. Actually, it was varying shades of gray. At first, he'd taken it for some kind of metal, but now that he stepped up closer to it he could see that it was actually wooden. Light gray wood with a metal door knocker and handle that were a slightly darker shade of gray.

"The Land Without Color," he assumed, looking it over.

"The Land Without Color," Jefferson confirmed. "Shall we?"

"Mmm…I think, yes, we shall."

Jefferson pushed down on part of the handle, pushed against the door, and a moment later he was pushed through a threshold into…a storm.

The sky was black, he felt rain pour down around him, and he saw Jefferson dashing off across a lawn, the hat held on his head as protection against the wet. When the lightning flashed, his eyes widened at what he saw. There was no blue hue to the world. It was only white light. It made the grass flash silver, the tree trunks resembled the color of iron, the shadows of the leaves were black as ever, but Jefferson's purple coat was still purple.

 _"Well, I didn't name it the Land Without Color for its rainbows,"_ he recalled Jefferson telling him once when he remarked he had to be careful with this world. _"It's without color…black, and white, and gray all over, and I'm…well, not without color."_

He looked down at his own sleeve. It stood bright red against the gray of this world. That was a problem. Fascinating, but a problem indeed.

"Hey!"

He glanced up to the spot behind a tree that Jefferson was calling him from. He was motioning wildly for him, but if that boy thought he was about to run across the field…

His magic worked here. He wasn't exactly transported in the blink of an eye like he would have been at home, but it did work. He could feel it in the air, stale and weak, like bread that had been left out and untouched.

"Hey! Don't do that here! You have to be careful! You want to get us caught?! Something happens to us, then we can't get back to our world!" Jefferson exclaimed. Interesting. It was the first time that he'd ever heard Jefferson utter word that was not frivolous or full of sarcasm. He'd never known the boy could take anything seriously in his life, but apparently, he took this work rather seriously.

"Worry not, just…testing the waters as they say."

"Well, magic isn't entirely understood here, so watch what you test where. And be sure to stay hidden. You think these people get confused with magic; you should see what happens when we introduce the color red to them."

"Why don't you just take us to the place the doctor is."

Beside him, Jefferson nodded and looked around. "House isn't too far from here. We'll start there, but if he's at his lab…"

"Let's just get going."

"You're the boss."

Ahead of him, Jefferson led him through the forest, nothing but a maze of black tree trunks and gray mud that clung to his boots as they walked. When the lightning flashed white around him, he could see that the gunk that adhered to his boots stayed brown. Curious. He was nearly sure it would remain colorless when it came in contact with him. Would that mean, if his plan was successful, that the Doctor would turn colors if he came into their world? Certainly, that was a question worth asking. And for a scientist, that might just be something he could take advantage of. He had limited personal experience with the field of science, but a few of the Dark One's whispered in his head that it always started with a question.

Ahead of him, Jefferson took a big step, and he realized that the forest they were in ended against a road. The road curved against a property, and in front of him he saw a house like he'd never seen before. _"Mansion"_ one of the voices told him. White lights shone through windows, a wrought iron gate was in the front surrounded by a fence rose up around it. He wanted one.

Jefferson boldly reached out and pulled him by the sleeve up to run across the open space to hide behind that fence.

"Here," Jefferson muttered breathlessly. "This is where he lives, at least officially, when he's not at the lab. We have to figure out if he's inside or not but-oh!" He grabbed him again as a loud squeak announced the opening of the gate and he noticed a horse carriage pull up at the road. A few seconds later, there were loud cries of "Victor! Victor!" and a man came into view. He was wearing black, and his shoulders were hunched as he walked away from the house.

"Victor! Victor, wait!"

"Victor, that's him," Jefferson muttered beside him as a man in white ran to catch up to him. He was the opposite of Victor. Tall, dressed in white fancy clothes, the man in black stopped to look at him, and he got his first look at the Doctor. Odd little fellow. His face was pale, and he had the feeling it had more to do with lack of proper sun in this place than lack of color. And around his eyes, blackness. But he could tell even from this distance it wasn't natural. It was some kind of paint that made him look a bit scarier than he would have normally. He wanted to know if the strange man was wearing it too.

"Who is the other individual?" he questioned quietly, as he watched the pair of them exchange words he couldn't hear over the rain. Beside him, Jefferson moved just enough to risk a glance before getting back against the wall once more.

"His brother, Gerhart. The favorite of the Frankenstein sons."

Gerhart, Victor, Frankenstein…not exactly names he typically heard in the Enchanted forest and yet not entirely unfamiliar to other Dark Ones. When one lived so long with hundreds of centuries worth of knowledge in their heard identifying names and cultures was easier. The worlds really weren't as cut off as they seemed.

He ducked back as the blonde-haired man, Victor, turned and left his brother standing there in the rain. He watched through the obstruction of the vine as Gerhart turned to leave back into the mansion he was going to dream about, and when it was safe, he peered out at the Doctor getting into the carriage.

"He's probably going to his lab…he spends most of his time there," Jefferson commented as the gate whined shut, and that carriage took off.

"Then, by all means…we should be going there."

Magic, weak as it was in this world, was still an amazing thing. From the sticks and stray branches in the woods and a mouse that he found, he transformed them into a wonderful black and white and gray carriage pulled by a glorious stallion.

"Hey," Jefferson complained. "I tell you to keep things quiet, and this is what you do? What's quiet about this? It's a carriage without a driver!" Idly he picked up a blade of grass from the property, and after blowing on it a bit he set it on the drivers seat. Slowly, it transformed until a body appeared in the driver's seat. A dummy driver, of course, nothing that had a brain or was as malleable as his puppets once had been, but it would get them to where they needed to go without raising the alarms Jefferson worried about so much.

"Shall we?" he questioned. Jefferson hmphed, but got into the carriage and together they followed the dirt road to a place he hadn't expected. There was a city here. More than a town, an actual city. And yet no castle in sight just square building after square building, a bumpy road made of stone instead of dirt, fences, and people with umbrellas and clothes like he'd never imagined. As they rode, he took his time to look about them, to overhear what conversations he could, to use his magic to manipulate his clothes to match their own. He knew he could color himself black and white, but decided against it as the carriage pulled up to a building where the Doctor's carriage had stopped at. He wanted this man to believe he was magical, without that one gift of color he might not believe how powerful he truly was. Especially if his spirits were low, which he was almost certain they would be. Whatever conversation he'd had with his brother, it hadn't looked pleasant.

Outside the building they pulled into there was a carriage, stacked full of boxes and crates and though he was almost certain that the entire building did not belong to the Doctor, he knew it had something to do with him when Jefferson pointed out the window to one of the men carrying the boxes and said "that's Igor, his assistant." So Jefferson had told him right. His offices were being packed up, it seemed. And Victor…he walked like a man who had lost all hope.

"It would seem we've arrived in the nick of time. Wait here for me, and do something to make sure the assistant stays busy."

"Sure but…"

He didn't stay to hear Jefferson's "but", just used his magic to take himself inside the building. He did do as the Realm Jumper requested. Inside he stuck to the shadows, keeping himself out of sight of the men around him who were busy taking boxes up and down stairs. The activity reminded him of an ant's mound. It made the Doctor easy to find. He waited for his moment to come. The assistant was still inside, and while he was planning on sending the Doctor into palpitations, he wasn't planning on making too much of a stir with the assistant, at least not until he met with whatever Jefferson was going to prepare for him. Finally, another crate was packed, and Igor took it. When he was out of the room, he took his opportunity to emerge.

He made himself comfortable in what was possibly one of the most uncomfortable chairs he'd ever sat in and watched as dear Victor packed another box quickly with detachment. Trying not to get too weepy over his experiment gone wrong…he could respect a man of few emotions like that. But not when he had limited time.

"Good evening, Doctor!" he finally greeted cheerfully.

It was impossible not to hear him, and in this backdrop, it was impossible for the Doctor not to see him. He was the only thing that wasn't black or white but rather red all over! Still, Victor didn't seem too shocked by the surprise. The man was hardly speechless as he'd expected.

"How did you get in here? Who are you?" For a doctor, he didn't even ask the right questions.

"Stiltskin. Rumpel Von Stiltskin," he answered with a smile. It was a mock of one of the names he'd heard outside when he was in the carriage. A name like that would have had him blending in if it weren't for his coloring. He wondered…could he even see his color? Was it possible everyone here was colorblind?

"A foreigner," he assumed.

Ah…just when he was starting to doubt. "What tipped you off? My rosy complexion?" But then, perhaps not. He didn't answer yes, but he didn't answer no, either. Just looked at him with confusion as he cocked one eyebrow into the air. Pity he wasn't handsome like his brother, that move would have gotten him a wife by now. Though he supposed he should be grateful for it. He needed his mind more than his looks. "Yes, I've seen nothing of your drab little land yet, but I am interested in your work," he commented, moving on.

"Well, you're a little late," the Doctor muttered, looking around the empty lab. "I've been shut down. And I can't bring back dead loved ones, anyway, if that's what you're after."

He genuinely had to laugh at that, the thought of wanting Milah to be anything but dead, that was a "no" on his end. It was as much a no as he could manage. "I think my deceased are best kept where they are, dearie, thank you very much," he dismissed. "No, no, no. My interest, is in how you do what you do. You see, where I come from, we do things differently. Your land has witchcraft, but it's feeble, neglected stuff. Where I live, it's strong and hearty. But…it cannot restore life. If you can do this, well… I'll want to know more, and I'm willing to pay."

He rose and opened the bag that he'd been carrying with him, then toppled it over. Similar to the trick he'd done when he first met Jefferson, the money spilled out onto the floor, far more of it than could ever have fit in the bag itself and he was pleased to see the Doctor take it in with a wide-eyed almost nervous look. Finally, a normal reaction!

"How did you do that?" he asked, stepping closer.

Just to tease, he allowed himself to disappear and reappear over his shoulder. "You're missing the point!" he proclaimed. "Money…yours." He pointed at each making it as simple as he possibly could. Victor seemed to follow along, but only just.

"Are you a philanthropist?" he asked.

"Well, I've been called worse," he dismissed. Philanthropists gave without taking, he always took. That was the art of deal-making. "There is a cost to you…knowledge. You teach me to wield whatever it is you wield. _That_ is the deal!" he offered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Igor reappear in the doorway above. If he wanted to keep this quiet and clean, then he was running out of time.

"Then it's a deal," Victor, fortunately, agreed without hesitation.

Before Igor or even Victor could look up, he was gone from the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot of fun things going on in writing this chapter. Obviously, some of the fun of it was "hiding" Jefferson. In this episode, I chose to have Jefferson accompany him to the Land Without Color because how else would he get there? (Remember, I didn't want him to be all-powerful.) But, in the episode, we never actually see Jefferson, so I made a game of sorts out of hiding him. It makes me smile now whenever I see that scene of Rumple glancing around the hedge and I imagine Jefferson is hiding beside him, just off-camera where we can't see him.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I hope the first appearance of the Doctor was a good one. I know it's a bit rushed, but I wanted it to feel a bit rushed since their trip was rushed. But it should be enough that you see the first problem of writing all this storyline. I don't know what the writers were thinking. Rumple approaches him and asks him to succeed so he can teach him, but of course, that never happens. He goes back and forth to this world and his plans change so drastically over time that I had to come up with some way to explain that. How? Well, I suppose you'll have to keep reading! Peace and Happy Reading!


	58. A Push in the Right Wrong Direction

It was an odd thing, months ago when he'd first realized that he was going to have to deal with Regina and the trauma that she had surrounding Daniel he'd wanted nothing but that part of her life to be worthless so he didn't have to deal with it. Now that he had a plan in place for handling it, the amount of time it was taking to get to that moment was a bigger frustration than his original discovery.

Perhaps the one good thing that Cora had done for Regina was groom her to be pliant. After years of being forced to play a role she didn't want to play, he found that she was still remarkably good at it. The only difference was that instead of being asked to play the role of a daughter devoted to finding a King to marry, now she was playing the role of a Queen who wanted to learn sorcery for power. She responded to his anger in the tower that night in a productive way. Questioning if Daniel still held her back forced her to prove that it didn't, and now, whenever he looked in the mirror to check on her, he saw her practicing.

One day he'd had the very bright idea to push her forward. He let her come over and just happened to leave the letter he'd once written to Cora about Zelena out in plain sight. He'd watched as she'd found it, read it, smiled, thinking it was about her, and then folded it up and shoved it in her pocket for safekeeping. He pretended he'd noticed nothing. The truth was he was never going to send that letter to Cora, not after what had happened with Zelena, but if it could do some good in some way, then that was how he was going to use it. At that very lesson she finally learned how to make fire. It was small and pitiful, but it was something.

"Teach me more…teach me something new."

"As you wish."

It was a sign that with proper motivation Regina could accomplish anything. In the month that followed she was unusually devoted. In fact, he watched as she became more than devoted, she became driven. A small taste of the magic she was capable of was all it had taken to flip the switch, and he'd been thrilled to watch her master skills that he once thought that she might never accomplish…but not perfectly. Oh she could immobilize and move objects, making them appear and disappear at will now, and finally, she had a desire for what the magic she did could do for her, as evidenced in the questions she was asking about its uses, but a fireball, a true flaming ball of fire still eluded her. She just didn't have the anger for it. She had the craving to learn the other things, things that would impress and scare her husband away from stalking her bed at night, things that would earn her fear and respect among the guards that she was growing for herself, and things that he knew were earning her quite an interesting reputation among the household servants, but true anger...she just couldn't bring it to life and possess it.

And he was growing tired of waiting for her to possess it. He was growing tired of waiting for her to be in a place where she might be in need of the Doctor's "talents". He was growing tired of listening to Jefferson's never-ending reports of failure on the Doctor's part! It was obvious to him that the plan he'd had in mind before wasn't good enough, not to do the job he needed to have done. The one he possessed now, however, was genius. It had taken a while, but he'd finally come up with a plan that could work! In fact, the more he thought of it, this plan would work better than his previous plan. But Regina in this state, as he took her through her drills lesson after lesson, watched her immobilize creatures twice, three, four times her size…she wasn't ready for it to be enacted.

But if the Doctor was successful soon, the plan he saw in his head might not work, and he'd have to resort to the one he'd initially worked out. He didn't want that. Not anymore. This needed to be handled delicately and soon!

And so the night before a lesson with Regina, he watched her alone in her bedroom at the palace. She summoned water, her hairbrush, a spellbook, and finally she tried and failed to spark a fireball in the palm of her hand. It was time to give her a push, he decided, and see if that might spark what was necessary. And wasn't it just his luck that it was the one-year anniversary of Daniel's death? If that didn't urge her on and open up that anger that he knew she had to have, then he didn't know what would.

It was time for her to take a heart.

Not a human heart. She was still too weak for anything like that just yet, an animal would be better. And so as he put her through her drills in the woods that afternoon he summoned to her a rare black unicorn. It wasn't a friendly beast and reared up at the danger it perceived. Regina backed away, her hands close to her belly as if she was afraid of it. But he stayed right where he was demonstrating what it meant to have no fear. He'd already had her immobilize sheep and people, horses and entire carriages. This should be simple for her.

"Now, show me what you've learned. Immobilize it!"

Regina took a timid step forward, then threw out her hands. He felt a wave of magic bloom in the surrounding area, it was unfocused magic but still strong.

"There. I did it!" she smiled proudly as the horse continued to stand unmoving on two feet, a bluish wave moving over its body. Certainly, she had done it. She'd frozen the horse, as well as everything else in the area, but they could deal with that later. Focus wasn't the point of this little lesson. That was what came next, and it made him giggle uncontrollably for this was where her test began. Unlike her sister, he had the feeling that in time she would pass.

"Excellent work, my apprentice. Now there's just one last tiny, tiny, teeny, little detail. Take its heart."

The smile on her face left quick as lightning. This was bound to be a touchy subject for her, he was well aware. But that was the point. It was time she got past this, time she get over Daniel and began to focus what she felt for the past, and how she might use it in the future.

"Like what my mother did to-"

"Oh, your true love. Indeed!" he exclaimed with a less than caring tone. "Then, you already know how it's done!" He didn't want to seem caring, he didn't want to sound as though he was familiar with what anniversary was coming up for her. He wanted it to sound like it was normal. If she could do this without all the cock and bull he was about to give her, that was best! Less work for him and for Jefferson as well. If not…well, he was far more prepared for this to fail than she'd ever know.

Regina didn't want to do this. She loved horses, and that was why he'd chosen such a rare one to start with. But after a moment, at the urging of her teacher, she did inch forward slightly, looking at the exposed chest of the beast before her.

"Gentle," he instructed as she raised her hand. "If you do it right, no harm will befall it. Unless, of course, you will it."

And that was where she faltered, daring to look up into its eyes instead of right at its chest. He could hear her breath grow high and sharp, her own heart pounded, and suddenly she withdrew her hand and turned her back on the creature.

"I can't. It's innocent!"

"Nothing is innocent!" he stressed. Not Regina, not this horse, not even her precious Daniel. Still, he wasn't done pushing. He reached out himself and removed the heart before her eyes. Or at least attempted to before she turned away. Her spell broke as he pulled it forth, the horse gave a great whinny and put its feet back on the ground, but it didn't rear up again as it had before simply because he didn't have time for that and willed it not to. Regina turned around just in time to watch him convince the beast to lie down in the dirt at their feet. "Now, it belongs to me. You see, when you take a heart, it becomes enchanted. Stronger than a normal heart. You're not hurting the beast; you're controlling it. Now, show me you know what to do with that power."

He tossed the glowing red heart to her, and she caught it with little problem.

"Kill it."

"What?"

"You've seen it done, now do it yourself. Show me you can take the next step in your training. Crush it."

In her own defense, she faired better than he thought she would have. By this point, he had expected her to outright refuse and resort to name-calling as she stumbled off. But instead, she listened. And he watched eagerly as his next plans were written. Holding the glowing heart at arm's length, she turned toward the beast and began to squeeze so that he could hear the delicate muscle begin to crack and break beneath her fingers.

But then she stopped.

The second the beast moved to put its head on the ground and let out of cry of pain or sorrow, he wasn't sure which, she stopped. There were tears in her eyes as she shook her head, and the horse slowly started to rise to its feet again. There was that weakness he'd been seeing in her, the vulnerability that needed crushed far more than the heart did.

"Dearie, dearie, dearie. And I had such high hopes…"

"And I didn't sign up to kill unicorns!"

"Magic is power!" he shouted back at her. "Until you can take power, you're not learning anything. Do you want me to teach you or not?"

"Yes!" she insisted.

"Then, there's one simple question for you to ponder."

She shrugged. "I'll tell you anything."

Rumple let loose a loud high pitched laugh. This wasn't a test for him. It was for her. "I don't need the answer…you do. What's holding you back?"

Regina opened and closed her mouth. It looked like she was the one who had her heart torn out. "This old argument again?" she cried. "I thought we were past all this!"

"Oh, we'll never be past it, dearie. Not until you have your answer! Until you can answer that question, it'll be back to potions for you, something a bit less…stunning."

Afterward, back in his tower, he wasn't surprised to look through that cauldron and see her place the heart back in the unicorn. Just as he wasn't surprised to see her transport herself to her family's mausoleum and mourn the body of her beloved Daniel. It was a year, in a few days it would be time to recharge the preservation spell. By then, he intended for everything to be ready for her next visit. Today he'd push, next time, he'd break her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Straight forward scene. I framed it, added a little to the beginning to show Regina's growth as well as how she came to be in possession of a letter Rumple wrote to her mother, but then added more on to the end, just to give the chapter a nice conclusion. My hope is that you didn't even notice where the OUAT stuff ended and my stuff began. I hope...
> 
> Thank you to RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. With this we are officially diving into the 2x05 stuff. I think it's going to be interesting to all of you as to how it unfolds. We're back to Jefferson and Dr. Frankenstein for the next couple chapters to give you an idea as to how this is all going to work. Peace and Happy Reading!


	59. The New Agreement

But his desire to break the Queen would only be so helpful if he didn't discuss things with the Doctor or Jefferson first. The plan had changed in his mind. It had originally been something half-formed, something that involved him learning the craft to bring her dearly departed fiancé back from the dead and turn him into an evil raging monster like Frankenstein couldn't possibly imagine. Now it was something different. It was something a little less messy…or at least it would be a bit less messy in their world. In the Land Without Color, if he was successful, well…Frankenstein wouldn't be his problem after their involvement was done. But he did need to return, to prepare the doctor for this new plan, a plan that simultaneously would get Regina to control a heart and lose hope at the same time. A plan that would promise to deliver the doctor what he needed, even if he didn't know it. A plan that clearly had Jefferson in a panic.

"You know he hasn't succeeded yet!" the boy complained breathlessly as he made his way back to the Doctor's laboratory. "You were listening when I told you that, weren't you?"

"Yes, yes, you've told me! And that's why we rushed right over! If he's as far away from it as you say, then I need a new plan, and I have one."

"Which is…"

"Magic."

"Yeah…care to elaborate because I don't think this guy is gonna go for that!"

"You'll find out the details all in good time. Until then…" he held out his hand to silence Jefferson as he watched the one called Igor leave the premises, lifting his cloak over his head to shield him from the storm. Honestly, did this realm ever stop raining? He couldn't imagine a more drab existence, and he was the Dark One. "Wait here for me!" he commanded, sensing only one life inside the laboratory now that the assistant had gone.

"Why can't I-"

He didn't stay to listen to the boy whine; just used magic to take himself inside. He was certain to wear the clothes he'd worn the first time he'd met the doctor, but that was about all that was similar about their last encounter. The room was different from when he'd last been there. Fuller, more lived-in and lively…which was odd considering the dead body floating in a tank of some liquid or other from the ceiling. If the stories Jefferson told him were true, and he had no reason to doubt they weren't, then the body belonged to that of his brother. He certainly hadn't been here the last time he had. Of course, the last time he'd been here, he'd also been packing up, and now, as he spied him working by a microscope of some kind, he was obviously working. And if Jefferson was to be believed then work he must unless he was willing to use a bit of magic.

"Did it work?" he questioned, appearing behind him and looking at all the instruments he had laid out. The doctor didn't turn around, merely hunched his shoulders forward with disappointment. He knew the stance of a man who wanted to be left alone. "No?" he pressed further, purposefully annoying him.

"There was a little problem with what the heart could withstand," he finally admitted. Yes, that was just as Jefferson had said. And it was perfect.

"Ah! Problems of the heart," he commented as if he was only just hearing it for the first time. "Isn't that always the way?"

"Could you get out of my light! Please?"

He laughed. The "please" was an afterthought. He was testy, wanting to be left alone, and yet the good doctor had the manners to know he shouldn't be overly rude to someone who had given as much to his cause as he had. In a land where magic was suspect, it was nice to know money still had power.

"You know," he stated, moving out of the way as the Doctor wanted, "where I come from, there are hearts that can withstand anything because of magic." Well, nearly anything but that wasn't for him to know. Not as the Doctor was following his steps around the laboratory as if he was a puppy who had just been offered a treat.

"You have hearts?" the Doctor questioned. He smiled, this was how fishing worked.

"I'll tell you what. I'm going to bring you a friend…a master of the hat! He shall take you to a young woman who has exactly what you need!" Or at least exactly what was needed for him. "You put on a little show for her, and then you walk away with all your prayers answered. A heart for your brother," he pretended to be uninterested, uncaring of the result of this little temptation and held the magnifying glass up to his eye. He didn't need it; however, to see the small little reactions the Doctor was giving him. He was interested.

"And who is this woman?"

"Her name…is Regina."

Interested he was, but not quite hooked yet. There was something there still in his mind, something that kept him from surrendering and letting himself be caught. He was ready to fight, as most fish were when they were caught up in something they didn't understand.

"Why me?" he questioned. "What is it you need from me? What's the cost? I'm already in debt to you."

Ah, yes…that little detail. "Oh, about that…do this, and I'm willing to…alter the debt."

"Altering a bargain? You can't do that!"

"Ah, yes I can, I can do whatever I want, 'tis my bargain after all."

"Yes, but it is my debt!"

"Then I suppose I'd best make it worth your while."

"I'm listening."

"I want you to work your little experiment in the Enchanted Forest on a former lover of the Queen."

"The Queen?"

"Regina. Did I not mention she was the Queen?" he asked with a smile and small laugh. "I was sure I had."

"Queen or not," Victor shook his head. "I've told you, it's not ready yet, if I try now, I'm sure to fail."

"Well, that's perfect…because that's exactly what I want you to do. That is exactly the kind of show I want you to give her?"

"You want me to fail? You paid all that money so I would fail? Why?"

"Because I want her broken, and this is the way I have to do it. I want you to grant her wish. I want you to examine him, take his body, put it through your procedure…but fail."

"That is all…valuable information, but you still haven't answered my question, why would you want such a thing for your Queen?"

"Well, she's not _my_ Queen! I've my own village to care for. But the answer to your question…that's my business."

"Why not just do it yourself if all you want is to pretend, I can loan you the equipment."

"Because I need it to look believable. Under no circumstances is the woman supposed to know that I've told you to fail."

"And if I don't agree to the terms of this new agreement?"

"Well then…" The Doctor's lack of knowledge about magic was a valuable thing. Without that knowledge, he didn't know he had anything to fear when the Dark One stepped so close that his heart was in reach. In one swift movement, he plunged his hand into the Doctor's chest and pulled free the beating heart. How interesting…the Doctor's heart glowed red instead of gray. Though he wouldn't have been surprised to find it was black, if he was honest.

"I'll have to make you!" The Doctor was not so impressed as he was by his discovery. Instead, he stared wide-eyed, in fear of him, as he watched him hold the organ in his hand. "And if I have to make you, it's hardly a bargain you'll benefit from."

"How…how did you do that?" he gasped, pressing a hand over his own chest and glancing down to see no hole in his clothes or chest, not even a single drop of blood.

"Magic!" he answered. Suddenly the Doctor reached his hand out toward the red he held in his hand, but he was quick to yank it away. The Doctor's motion hadn't been fast, it had been timid and gentle, more likely he'd simply been trying to touch it rather than take it back, but he wasn't one to be fooled around with. "Not so fast dearie. You see…Magic can do a great many things. A heart like this one is something you need to make your brother breathe on his own again, and yet it's not. This will be the kind of heart Regina brings you, she won't know that it can't just be any old heart. Not even an ordinary enchanted one will do, but I can't have you telling Regina that."

"I don't understand. You said she'd give me exactly what I needed."

"And I meant it! She'll give you what you need to fail, and in return, I'll give you the kind you need to succeed." He wagged his eyebrows at him in mock temptation. Finally, the Doctor sighed and then swallowed so hard he could see the poor man's throat bob even against whatever that terrible jacket he was wearing was supposed to be.

"I'm listening," he finally confirmed. And at that word, he quickly moved the Doctor's heart back into his chest.

"You are to tell her you need a heart!" he explained over the noise of his shock and patting down his chest once more, checking for imaginary damage. "Encourage her to get one for you."

"Even though I know it won't work?!" he questioned still hunched over with his hand over his heart.

"Especially because you know it can't work! Because what you do know is that I can get you precisely the heart you'll need to withstand your procedure. You'll have fame, riches…and the love of your father for returning your brother to life."

Suddenly he had the Doctor's full attention.

"How do you know about…have you been watching me?!"

"Had to make sure my investment didn't go to waste!" he smiled. "Now I know it's not. At least so long as you don't turn down this deal."

"A deal? That's what this is?" he questioned incredulously.

"Well, that's what people tend to call it when you get one thing for another. When the time is right, let my associate take you to the Queen, hear her out, hold her hand, examine the body, give her hope that everything she wants is within her grasp, and then…crush it...for good." A well-timed flash of lightning lit up the room as thunder rolled overhead. He'd never hoped that it could be a sign more in his life. "Do all this without a whisper of my name, and you'll go home with a heart guaranteed to withstand a bolt of lightning!"

Another roll and flash. A heartbeat later, he saw the smallest hint of unhappy defeat in the doctor's shoulders and knew that he had him.

"Fine."

"Wonderful!" he declared. "Be ready Doctor. I'll send my associate for you when the time is right. You'll recognize him by his coloring," he smiled, tapping his own cheek. "We'll meet in the woods when it's finished. Once I'm sure the job has been done to my satisfaction, you'll get your heart."

"What a joy to be working with you," he answered sarcastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole plot was super convoluted when you get right down to it. I know it seems like I'm tweaking it to make it crazier, but I promise I'm not. When you really break down the scenes and then study them in a bigger picture you start to realize that a lot of these things you hadn't thought about needed to be explained or altered to make the entire thing work. Sorry if it seems like a lot of back and forth, I promise it'll pay off in the end.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter. And really thank you so much for sticking with me on this one. I remember that writing Regina's section was difficult because it just felt like it went on forever. You don't realize it until you sit down and sort it all out but a lot of the Regina-centric episodes have the exact same plot. Regina is unsure about what she's doing, something happens, suddenly she's sure again. And that would ordinarily be fine, but not when you have about seven episodes like that back to back to back. But rest assured, we'll move into a different section in no time at all! Peace and Happy Reading!


	60. The Good Thing About Associates

The best plans involved as few people as possible, preferably himself and the person he was using. He'd found that the fewer people who knew about the plan, the easier it was to make it work for himself and himself alone. He didn't like to "need" people. Needing others was an idea born of society. All he needed was his magic, and in this case, he needed to make sure the other person who would be key in breaking Regina's heart wasn't doing it for him, but rather for himself.

"Not so fast…" he called after Jefferson the night after his spat with Regina. The boy had been out and about, gallivanting in some other realm filled with dead and diseased humans and other nightmarish creatures. Now that he was back, he wasn't about to be honest and send him on this mission without allowing the boy to get something in return. He wouldn't allow this to count as a favor, or for the boy to think that he was essential to his plan. Oh, deep down he knew he was, but that was the thing about knowing one's importance, it had a tendency to bolster the ego. Jefferson didn't need that, and he most certainly didn't need Jefferson to think that he needed him. They already owed each other so many favors he could barely keep up. This one had to be done carefully. "I have another job for you…two actually."

The boy paused on the stairs and then with a sigh dragged his feet back up into the tower. He almost felt bad for the poor lad, he had no idea what Jefferson did on these trips or if it was a trick of the hat, but whenever he came back he was always exhausted. He knew he'd been about to go below, crash into the bed that he used, and sleep for days. But this wasn't a time for sleep. This was the time to plot.

"I'd like you to return to Oz."

"For the shoes? You think enough time has passed?"

"I worry over what might happen if too much time goes by." He knew, his future wasn't to use those shoes, he'd nearly made peace with that, but there was still a part of him that wanted to try and possess them. Besides, there were other reasons for sending Jefferson to Oz and calling him back.

"I'll get on it in the morning, shouldn't take me too long to dig around and locate them," he shrugged before turning to leave again.

"Ah!" he cried, making the boy pause again with an irritated sigh. He turned, looking tired and irate at being held up…perhaps now he'd know how he felt every time Jefferson insisted on spending the night or occupying the same room he did. "I'd like you to have care about when you return."

"'Have care about when I return'?" he mocked. "Can you just tell me what you want me to do?"

"Alright. I want you to return…in the middle of a lesson with Regina."

"Aren't you always the one promising death and pestilence and famine if I interrupt your business?"

"Perhaps but this time around I'd like to have you offer her a deal. It involves a certain…talent that you possess and I don't."

"You want me to take her somewhere."

"No, I'd like you to offer to bring someone here for her. I'd like you to dangle the hope of having Doctor Victor Frankenstein from the World Without Color come here…and raise that dead lover of hers."

Despite his exhaustion Jefferson's eyes suddenly widened. "That?!" he exclaimed. "That's the plan you've been working on?! That's the reason you wanted me to take you to that land, to see that Doctor?!"

"Are you capable?" he questioned, ignoring his outburst.

"You know I'm capable I just don't understand why there's been so much back and forth! I could have brought him here before now and saved myself the trip!"

"Jefferson…" he sighed, putting his hands behind his back and stepping forward. "Despite what you may think, this castle…it's not an inn. And some situations are far too delicate to cut corners. Regina must be the one to ask for this. I can't do it on her behalf and nor can you. And with her jumping in and out of this castle nearly as frequently as you do…it has to look as though I've had nothing to do with it. My hands must appear clean in all this, and you! You must make the Doctor sound appealing so that she asks for you to bring him."

"Yeah, right, I got it I know what to do, I'm a good salesman, but…"

"But?" he questioned. He'd been halfway to his wheel when he'd come upon that awful word. He didn't like "buts" in his deals.

"What if he refuses to do it?"

"He won't," he assured him, sitting back down at his wheel so he could spin gold. He had found in the past, on those few occasions when Jefferson was wary of a task, it helped to remind him of the payment he would receive. And since spinning was so calming, he was hoping it might help him not murder the boy for his questions and steer the conversation back to what he really needed to discuss with him, and that was the matter of payment. "The deal with the Doctor has already been struck, and I think you'll find he's waiting for your arrival. I've already convinced him. Upon your return, it'll be your job to convince, Regina."

"I assume my wage will be the same as it always is?" he questioned finally.

"And more if you play your cards right!" he declared, spinning himself on the stool so he faced his companion once more.

"More? In what way?"

"Oh, I'm sorry…I thought you knew what to do!" he taunted.

Jefferson opened his mouth, but then closed it again as his eyes wandered in his sockets as if searching for something. Obviously, he wanted him to tell him what he had in his mind, but at the same time he didn't want to admit he didn't know what he was talked about as he'd stated. Rumpelstiltskin merely smiled. It was a low blow, but when it came to Jefferson, sometimes he couldn't resist the temptation to remove some of that smugness he held onto so dearly. Finally, he sighed and shrugged in defeat.

"I don't know what to say, and I'm exhausted. Can you just tell me what you are thinking, Mister Gold, Sir?" he questioned, batting his eyes like the small child he knew he was trying to make him feel he was. He refrained from laughing as he rose to his full height. It was just one of the many reasons he didn't like having the boy stay here. He knew their relationship was well defined, Jefferson was a Realm Jumper, he paid him to find objects of great importance, and in return, he turned a blind eye when the boy all but lived in his castle. But there were times that he worried Jefferson thought it was more. That was why what he was about to suggest made so much sense. It should work for Jefferson, but it should also spare him more of these fatherly conversations. He had a son. He wasn't in the market for a new one.

"Well, I'm the mastermind in this little project, dearie, but if you do make the sale appropriately, Regina will never know it! Which means you could potentially claim a little fee from her on your own."

"More money! I wouldn't turn that down."

He let loose a giggle at the simplicity of his thinking as he sat back down at his wheel and began to spin once more. "You need to think a little bigger, dearie! Broaden your horizons. Regina is the Queen of a very large Kingdom, one that does not permit Realm Jumpers to use their magic unlike…say…my Kingdom."

"You think I should ask for what? A change in the law?"

"No!" he hissed, rising to his feet again and dancing closer to him with every single syllable. "No, no, no! That would open the entire Kingdom up to your kind, that's the last thing you want for business if you want to be the sole authority on the subject," he explained as he circled, roping him in further. "No, what you want…is a royal pardon."

"A royal pardon…like forgiveness."

"Exactly!" he shrieked, moving back to step in front of him. "You want permittance to practice your craft and jump from realm to realm so that you are not so limited within her Kingdom. That hat of yours only takes you realm to realm. Aren't you tired of only ever hopping place to place, then beginning that long, long, long…long trek home each and every time?" he questioned. He knew the answer to that was "no", not recently because he hadn't been "home" in so long. Not being able to jump to any place he wanted in this realm was the reason he stayed at the castle so often! But everyone, even Jefferson, dreamed of having a home. And it was clear the moment Jefferson began to smile that he had missed that aspect as well no matter how much he might have claimed not to in the past.

"It would be nice. Wouldn't help me in King George's Kingdom, but hers is certainly closer to home than yours is."

"Indeed," he muttered, sitting back down at his wheel. And it would certainly benefit him. He might actually get his solitude back once more and not have to go in search of breakfast only to wander into his Great Room and find Jefferson waiting there for him.

"So, is this what you do all day?" Jefferson questioned, suddenly appearing at his side, leaning against the bookshelf by his wheel with his arms crossed over his chest and that smug look of interest on his face again. So much for beating that out of him. "When you're not with Regina, that is? You sit up here in your little tower and scheme; just think about deals others could make."

"Mmm…mostly," he answered as he began to spin the great wheel and work the wool in his hand into thread. There was something poetic about it, about individual fibers that had nothing to do with one another coming together, spinning into a tight, neat piece of workable thread. He supposed that Jefferson was right. Even when he wasn't spinning fiber into thread, he was almost always certainly spinning something or someone into something useful. And he always would, until the day that curse was cast and he was back with Baelfire again.

"And they come from everywhere? Just to have you take advantage of them?"

"All over."

"Regina's Kingdom?"

"Many."

"Maurice's Kingdom?"

"Few."

"The village in your own?"

"Oh, nearly all of them. Everyone always needs something…or so they think. And if they can't, they can always be convinced."

"Even the guy in the house at the bottom of the mountain? What did he need?"

The house at the bottom of the mountain?

"What?"

"The house, you know, the one at the bottom of the mountain? Sweet old man, offers me tea when I see him." He stopped his wheel as a shiver threatened to give away his confusion. There were no houses on this mountain. There were no homes at all beyond the village and certainly no houses at the bottom of his mountain. Who would have been brave and stupid enough to construct one so close to his domain? But the way Jefferson said it, without a hint of doubt...

"There is no house at the bottom of the mountain."

"Of course, there is. Maybe you didn't hear me. Sweet old man lives there. I've been inside when he offers me tea. Obsessed with sweeping, I assume he made a deal for a broom that never breaks. Or perhaps to keep his robe red."

A red robe.

He felt himself resist a shudder again and knew suddenly that it wasn't out of confusion as he'd initially thought. No, it was something far more sinister, something far deeper and more magical that gave him that feeling of…fear. He hadn't felt fear before, not since taking up the mantle of the Dark One. And he wasn't about to start now. It was Nimue, she was the Dark One that fear was born of. It was the images she had in her mind of a boy in a red robe following Merlin around like a helpless puppy; images of a man in a red robe that was eerily similar hunting her down, stealing away a box that contained what he knew to be a hat-the same hat he'd seen in memories from Zoso...protected by none other than an old man in a red robe.

The house at the bottom of the mountain…it would take a lot of magic to hide from him, to not even be sensed. The Apprentice, he could do it. But he wasn't the only one. There were maybe half a dozen other sorcerers in this realm who could muster the magic to do it properly. Whether it was one of them or the Apprentice, he didn't take kindly to knowing any of them were practically camped out on his front lawn, and he hadn't a clue! But still…he had to know. If the Apprentice was there, if the hat was there…he could think of one way to be sure. It had to be magic that wasn't his own, magic the Apprentice couldn't plan on, and fortunately he knew exactly where to send Jefferson to get it.

"There's one last thing I'd like from Oz; while you're there, of course."

Jefferson's brows furrowed, he could only assume it was in confusion for how quickly the conversation had shifted. Frayed as his nerves felt at the moment he dared the boy to ask him about it. Finally, Jefferson shrugged. "Okay, sure. What do you need?"

"Several times, you've mentioned a bauble the Wizard possesses, or possessed as it were, which allowed him to see people, situations."

"Oh yeah, that. It's in the Wizard's Chambers, at least it was the last time you sent me there. Easy grab so long as the guards are looking the other way and the witch isn't in town."

"Excellent," he snarled. "While you're there…grab it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, dun, dun! Did anyone ever find it odd that we know the Apprentice lives at the bottom of the mountain and Rumple hasn't mentioned it? This chapter is SUPER important! I can't actually stress how important this chapter is because you'll only really see exactly how big of an impact this chapter has in the next section. What I will tell you is that Rumple's discovery of this fact is a game-changer and not just because he's about to get his hands on the crystal ball. Maybe not in this section, but it's leading to a big surprise that I have for you regarding something we never saw. It's gonna be good! And it's gonna take us a bit to get there, but trust me, it's going to be well worth it! Any guesses?
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments. I'm hopeful that you'll enjoy this Jefferson/Rumple chapter! It's another of my favorites partly because I'm excited for what it sets up but also partly because Jefferson/Rumple is a relationship we just didn't see enough of. Here you can sense their relationship moving forward and evolving in a surprising way. Rumple has the understanding that Jefferson sees him potentially in a way he claims not to want him to and yet he never really corrects him and even thinks it in his head a few times. Shocking to you? I suppose I'll find out when you review. But I do hope you'll enjoy it! Plenty more coming in the chapters ahead! Peace and Happy Reading!


	61. Higher the Throne, Longer the Fall

He didn't feel things like excitement anymore. Such feelings were useless to him. But if he had to choose a word for what he felt at this moment, he'd probably choose "excited". Though, if he was honest, "nervous" wasn't far behind.

It was time for Regina's next lesson. He had her here, in his tower. She'd transported herself dressed in her riding gear, still using that old excuse. She was ready to study potions, which was a significant downgrade from the work he'd been having her do, and sent a message he was certain that she would receive. He'd been hoping it might lead to a conversation that would have her ready to listen to Jefferson when he decided to drop in on them as they'd discussed. And yet the second he'd told her what they would be doing, she'd put on a false smile, licked her lips, and set to work organizing the table for their potions lesson. It was disappointing. It was terrifying, not knowing when Jefferson would come in. And the thought of all of the pieces working together like a well-oiled and perfectly timed clock had him feeling something like excitement. Regina was compliant now. But he knew if he could destroy that last shred of hope within her for happiness with Daniel, she would grow to be the terror he saw in his mind's eye.

He was tired of waiting. He was tired of planning and scheming and waiting for this to be over! Today was the day. He could feel it in his bones, and better yet, he could feel it with his sixth sense.

He waited on Regina, allowing her to set the table, purposefully ignoring her, being silent and rude as he spun at his wheel with his back to her. He hoped it might communicate dissatisfaction and lack of interest, to push her over the edge so that when Jefferson arrived, she'd be primed and ready to do what needed to be done. From over his shoulder he finally heard the tinkering of bottles and ingredients stop and Regina cleared her throat.

"Are you ready to begin?" she asked timidly.

"Oh, I've been ready!" he stated immediately before returning to his work at the wheel. "The question is, are you?"

There was only a brief pause before he heard her insist, "Yes, I am."

Impressive, she almost sounded convinced herself. Odd what the mind could tell itself. With a sigh, he lay the wool he was working with on the wheel, and half-turned to see her.

"Tell me why you're really here," he insisted, giving his legs a little slap to show the demand. He'd hoped to have some kind of word from Jefferson by now that he was ready to act, some hint as to when he would arrive, or some recognition that he knew today was today. But it seemed he was left on his own. He'd have to trust Jefferson. He'd have to hope that Jefferson knew no matter how much business they'd conducted together, if he screwed this up, there would be no safe place from his wrath.

"For…for power, for-"

"Stop wasting my time!" he cried, redirecting his attention to Regina before she could get any further. That was a lie. It had been a lie from the very beginning. She'd always had an ulterior motive, now was the time to bring it into the light so it could be properly squashed. "What is it you want? Come on. You've done all your soul searching…" he announced rising to his feet and giving that particular phrase a little eye roll. "Now, tell me."

She watched him, eyes wide and terrified as he came closer but not because of him, because of what he knew she was thinking. Inside, he'd never screamed and cheered so much for someone to stop blithering about and just say the damn words!

"Can you teach me how to use magic to bring back the dead?!"

She spat the words out all at once, with a desperation that would have told him it was the truth even if he hadn't already known. That was what she'd wanted, what she'd been planning from the beginning. But he had something much different for her in mind, and in that scenario, there was no room for such girlish fantasies, hopes, and desires. And if he didn't crush that now, she'd spend her entire life trying to do it, distracted from what he really needed her to do. He knew from experience.

"That's what this is about?" he laughed as if he had no idea. "The stable boy?"

"I want true happiness."

"Then find it elsewhere, dearie!" he cried. "Magic can do much, but not that. Dead is dead."

She fell at the words. Her chest lost its proud puff, her eyes lost their spark, he felt the chilling absence of magic come from her as her feet stumbled, and she slumped, using the table to proper her up.

"Then I am lost..." she muttered dramatically as if she were in some kind of romance novel and not the real world.

"And I've had my time wasted," he commented without feeling. Suddenly he felt a spark and whirl of magic he'd tasted before from an interruption like this. Jefferson was opening a portal. He nearly sighed with relief. "I'm sorry but, uh, transcending death is beyond even my reach…" he muttered, extending a hand over Regina because he feared she might be so caught up in her own emotions she would disappear back to the palace and all this planning would be for nothing.

"I thought nothing was beyond your reach?" Jefferson. Right on time, with barely a noise, he really didn't pay that boy enough. "…Busy. Should I…"

"No, no. Nothing important going on here," he announced, welcoming him into his tower as planned. Now they would see just how good a salesman he truly was.

"Rumpelstiltskin…"

"Ignore her."

Jefferson did as he stepped up to the table and opened his bag. "I got what you wanted…" he tempted.

For just a moment, his heart pounded, and he dared to dream that he might pull free a pair of shoes from that bag. But no. It was merely the crystal ball he'd asked for. Powerful, true, and very helpful, especially when it came to figuring out who was at the bottom of the mountain, but he had his sights set on those shoes. He'd known he hadn't really found them. After all he'd told him not to wait to come back if he did, but still…this was why hope could be so dangerous. It was frightfully distracting. He'd been planning for this very moment for months, and yet all he could wonder about were a pair of shoes.

"What about the slippers?" he questioned quietly, trying to hide his disappointment.

"Oh. Couldn't find 'em. Heard talk they've already been moved to another land."

He felt anger like he hadn't prepared for rush into him. Not only had he not gotten the slippers, but he'd allowed them to leave, and now they could be in any realm, maybe even the one he so desperately wanted to get to! It was terribly frustrating! He'd known getting his hands on them was a long shot, and yet he hadn't planned on hearing those words exactly today.

"That's what I needed to get to that other land!"

Behind them, there was the tinkling of glass. They both looked over to see Regina had turned their back on them and was playing with the items before her, making herself look busy. Annoying as the noise was it was sobering, it served as a reminder as to what this meeting was all about, he needed to focus on the point. Jefferson, he had to get Regina interested again.

"Well, come with me in my hat. I'm sure we can work something out."

"No, no," he insisted with the boy. "Your hat only transports between magical realms. I need to get to a land without magic."

Jefferson paused and almost looked confused for a moment as if he'd never heard these words before. "Why would anyone want that?"

He smirked, it was a nice try, but those were words he never would know, no matter what the situation.

"My business."

Jefferson shrugged and held the crystal out to him once more. "You want the ball or not?"

He looked it over and let out a humming noise as if he was thinking about it, but truly there was nothing to consider. If it was as magical as he said it was, as magical as he felt it was now, then yes, he did. Very much so. It could be very helpful for looking past a few very unhelpful little spells.

"Yes!" he finally answered, reaching out to grab it. "Help yourself to as much gold as you deem appropriate."

Jefferson smiled and moved away from the table, and he turned back to Regina. So far, his salesman wasn't selling anything, and it seemed that if they had any chance of this happening, he needed to get involved in the transaction once more to spark a little conversation.

"Oh, and you," he muttered, making Regina turn and brush herself off. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but not a single tear slid down her cheeks. In fact, she was smiling! But given their situation and their conversation, he could see no reason for that. "You can let yourself out. Our work is done!"

"So that's it?" she whined as he moved away. "You're not going to teach me anymore?"

"So long as you harbor foolish notions of bringing back the dead, so long as you live in the past, you'll never find your future. Teaching you is a waste of time."

What the hell was the bloody fool waiting for? He'd practically done his job for him. He'd given him the perfect opening the perfect excuse, the perfect everything to engage Her Majesty, and when he walked away from Regina Jefferson was still rooting through his gold coins paying no attention to-

"Pardon me…for eavesdropping…" he glanced quickly over his shoulder to see Regina had turned at the sudden breath at her neck. Jefferson. It was about damn time. "But I think you need to look elsewhere for assistance."

"What do you know about it?" she asked of him.

"I hear things…. Jefferson's the name, and I'm a man who travels and sees much. And I know the man who can do what you want–bring back the dead," Regina let out a small gasp at his offer, but he wasn't looking at her face and couldn't determine if it was shock, horror, or hope. No matter, Jefferson went right on as if he'd never heard it. "He's, um, you might say, a wizard. I can bring him to you."

"At what price?" Regina questioned after a small pause.

"Always a price, indeed. So, here's mine. Like I said, I'm a man of travels, and I've made many enemies along the way, and I'd like a royal passport so I can have free reign to traverse your kingdom."

"How would I do that?" she asked with a laugh that made him roll his eyes.

Jefferson didn't fall prey to it, though. He merely widened his eyes and leaned forward as if about to share a secret. "Well, you're the Queen, aren't you?"

There was a pause on Regina's behalf, and from where he stood, he watched as part of her face jumped. A nervous smile, perhaps? "That's right, I am. And this wizard…can he really bring someone back from the dead?"

"Well, if he can't, no one can," Jefferson teased. And before giving her an opportunity to question it, he grabbed his bag and went for the stairs. He hid a smile from Regina. It was excellent work indeed, though he wasn't thrilled about how long it had taken him to get into that work. But that was a conversation for later, and if he was successful and able to gain access to Regina's land so that he didn't have to live here anymore, he would be happy to ignore the critique he had fluttering about in his brain.

"Well then…if there's nothing more you need from me, I assume you'll be going," he pointed out to Regina who was still staring at the place Jefferson had descended with astonishment.

"Yes…I guess I will," she muttered dreamily.

"One final offer dearie. A word of warning about our mutual acquaintance Jefferson-"

"What? Can he not do what he says?"

"Oh no, quite the opposite," he chuckled. "If he says it, then it's usually true!" Regina's smile suddenly grew tenfold. She was hopeful, more than he'd ever seen her in the last year or so, perhaps more than she'd ever been, and that was perfect for him. It would make her downfall all that more painful and the scars all the more prominent. It would be beautiful to see. "But take this small grain from me, dearie, should this…wizard, of sorts fail, and you decide to start living your life here in the present with the rest of us, then come time for our lesson tomorrow, I'll be in the woods…don't keep me waiting, lest I decide to live my own life in the present."

For once, it was Regina who vanished without further word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the 2x05 chapters! These chapters are a bit of a turning point not only for Regina but also for our tale. After these chapters the Regina section picks up quite a bit. Everything up until this moment has happened within the span of one year. After these events we jump headlong into the future with Regina growing more and more into the Evil Queen we all know and love.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you to RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter! I'm curious about how you'll feel for the next chapter because it's going to a place you probably aren't expecting. In trying to untangle this mess I realized some important things had to happen and I'm hoping you'll find the additions suitable to the story overall! In the meantime, let me know how you feel about this chapter, pretty simple and straight forward, right from the episode! Stick with me everyone, it might not feel like it but we are getting somewhere. Peace and Happy Reading!


	62. Glimpses Through a Crystal Ball

His new bauble was remarkable. When Jefferson had first told him of it, it seemed too much to hope for that it might be a genuine Crystal Ball and not one of those frauds that gypsies placed simple enchantments on to make money. Holding it in his hands, he could see that those fears were unfounded. It was an authentic Crystal Ball, a heavy piece of cloudy rock that distorted the images inside unless the right amount of focus was applied.

Focus. Focus was all he needed to move forward with it, and this was a perfect situation in which to practice with it. True enough, he hoped to use it to identify the man inhabiting the invisible house at the bottom of the mountain, but he didn't want to try too early, lest he fail and alert Merlin's Apprentice to his knowledge of his whereabouts. No, though the Dark Ones in his head screamed at him to go right then, he ignored them so that their screams were only whispers. They'd had the same responsibilities he'd had, and they'd all failed. There was no use repeating what they had done only to get the same results. Nimue said his gift was patience, and he intended to exercise it. Instead, he practiced on this little deal of his, the plot he'd been working on for months now to attain the thing he wanted most. At this moment that was a Regina who would cast a curse that would end this world and take him to the world his son was in.

Focus.

He held the ball in his hands he could see Regina. At first, the image was blurry and unfocused, but he found that the more he desired to see, the more the image cleared. She was in her room. She was pacing, a smile was on her face and she was shaking her hands, looking as if any moment she might begin to jump up and down in excitement. Remarkable. It was just as if he was looking through the mirror only the angle changed as he desired. When she walked, he could see her face, and when she spun around to face the other way, the angle he was looking at changed so he could once more see her face. Odd. He wondered…

Astounding. He'd held that Crystal Ball in his hands and asked to see his book, the one that he'd originally lent to Cora. He'd taken it back when he thought Regina was growing too dependant on it and now he kept it in the other Tower, safe and sound from Regina getting her hands on it again. And there it was! He could see the book hidden in shadows from where it lay upon a dusty table.

And when he wanted to spy Regina again…

There she was! Unphased by the magic she didn't even know was being worked in her room. It was a minor thing, nothing that proved that magic couldn't be felt in the room. Regina was too new and too excited at this moment to really take note if there was. He'd have to conduct further experiments before he used it to glimpse into the house at the bottom of the mountain. Experiments like…

Looking beyond this world.

He didn't want to get his hopes up, or get too excited, so he started with something easy. What he desired was a world of black and white and gray, and what he got was just that. Before him, the foggy image became something blurry, then slowly revealed the familiar lab of Doctor Frankenstein and…Jefferson! His associate was sitting atop the metal table in the center of the room watching the doctor, whose back was turned to him as he packed a black bag. He would have questioned whether Jefferson had approached him yet or not, but the more he looked, the more he saw Frankenstein's unhappy face scowling before him, muttering. When he stopped, the image shifted and he watched as Jefferson's mouth moved as well. They were having a conversation and that allowed him to see the one downside of his new Crystal Ball. No sound. It was just as it had been when Cora placed a spell over the mirrors in her estate, and yet, he didn't find himself upset. This wasn't something that had been done to him as Cora's spell had been, this was simply something brand new to figure out, and perhaps even tinker with. In time, perhaps he'd figure out a way to improve it, but as he sat in his tower watching Jefferson retrieve Regina to introduce her to Frankenstein, he recalled that he was too busy to tinker at the moment. In order for this deal to go off, he needed to provide Frankenstein with a heart.

It was possible, he supposed for Regina to go out and get him one that would work, but he alone knew it couldn't be just any ordinary heart. It would have to be something special in order to maintain the sort of energy the good Doctor needed to pulse through it. Of course, it would need a very special heart for his brother not to go mad from having another heart inside of him…but he hadn't promised that he would provide that, only a heart that would survive the procedure. In the very likely case that Regina wouldn't provide that when she went out to take one for her beloved Daniel, he needed to be prepared.

A fairy heart would do it, but a glance at his two useless dolls reminded him he wasn't much in the mood for their antics. The heart of the Truest Believer, if it was such a thing, might also work, but he wasn't willing to search the world over for it. No, he needed something just a bit more common and yet just as rare. He could think of one heart that fit that description.

"Show me…a heart born of true love…" he muttered into his crystal ball with a smile. Well, that was a mistake. Faces, so many faces, appeared and disappeared inside that glass ball. Too many for him to pick from; old, young, men, women, babies, mothers, fathers, single, married…he couldn't pick anyone out. Not like this.

Frustrated he set the ball aside. True love wasn't as difficult as finding the Heart of the Truest Believer or getting the heart of a fairy, but that appeared to be the problem. It was rare but still common, and therefore there were none he could single out. He didn't know their stories, didn't know what made them tick, their routines…all were necessary if he wanted to keep this quiet, and he did. But then…

A Heart of True Love wasn't the only requirement then. He needed one that was born of True Love, but didn't know it. He needed someone who hadn't come into his abilities, one who had never learned to master them, and better yet someone who didn't know they were in possession of them. The magic created by True Love was powerful. While he could beat them, he didn't particularly feel like spending his time flexing his muscles today, not when he had Regina to watch. He needed an easy target.

With a sigh, he picked up his crystal once more, closed his eyes, and squeezed. "Show me the one whom I must seek."

The command was simple, he wondered if it was too simple, but when he opened his eyes, he saw the crystal ball focusing in on somebody. A boy. No! It was a man. He was short with sandy hair, in the back of a shop of some kind, bent over…a cake! He was decorating it. Normally a female's job to be sure, but he seemed to have a steady hand and keen eye. He'd done this before. A bakery. He owned a bakery. No, he was a man, but only just. And as he watched the image in the ball, he saw a man, one older than him come up behind him and clap him on the back. His father. No doubt he owned the bakery, and his son simply lived there. Where? Where was it?!

"Show me where-"

Before he could finish the question it came to him. As he sat there staring into the ball, the Seer pulled him into a vision.

_He saw Father and son exchange words briefly before the boy took his apron off. Finally, he stepped outside into his little town, and took up a wheelbarrow filled with bread. He was surrounded almost immediately by women and children offering him coins for a loaf. The picture shifted to what appeared to be a dark ally. A look of pain on the man's face as he felt himself pull the heart from his chest before sending the boy away. And then he was in the forest again, far from there. He saw Regina dressed in black, smiling at him in the woods, holding the heart of a witch he well knew had been trying to resurrect her sisters. He felt pleasure as he watched Jefferson take the Doctor back to his own realm. His plan had worked._

He pulled free of the vision so quickly and suddenly, he'd nearly dropped the crystal ball. So much information! It buzzed in his head like a hive of bees, but he smiled at it. If the buzzing wasn't so loud he'd have laughed. If he didn't know any better, it was as if the Seer was jealous he'd found a new way to access information and wanted to prove her own worth.

Where would he find the boy? When he'd left the bakery he'd seen a mountain over his shoulder with a castle perched on it. He recognized it. It was the Kingdom of King Maurice. He hadn't spent much time in that Kingdom, just enough to know who ran it and who would someday, unless Maurice and Collette finally had the son they wanted so desperately. But according to the vision, it did appear it was time for a trip. And after that...well, the Seer appeared to have laid his plan for him.

With a smile, he pulled free a spool of gold and used his magic to fashion it into a lovely stand for his new toy; an elegant throne upon which it could be seated. He was eager to get back and see what more it could do, what it could tell him and reveal about the man at the bottom of the mountain. He was even more eager to see if the Seer's jealousy would reveal anything further to him. But, for now, he couldn't let himself be distracted. He had work to do.

Getting the heart was easier than he could ever have expected. No sooner had he set the ball down did he find himself in that ally he'd seen. Perfectly, as he could not have planned it with so little time to prepare, he suddenly caught sight of the boy, pulled his cloak up over his face and eyes, and called forth some of the pain from his ankle to give himself a helpless looking limp. He made a show of falling down and crying out for help, and suddenly there he was before him. A hand on his elbow and one against his shoulder.

"Here," he stated. "Let me help you, Sir! Easy now, easy-"

The next second he'd plunged his hand into his chest and removed the precious item for him. He had the heart of true love in more ways than one, but the second he removed it, the boy gasped and dropped him. By that time, however, he was already upright once more. He giggled as the boy fell to his knees and put his hand to his chest.

"Please!" he whimpered. "Please, have mercy! My mother was killed by ogres, I'm all my father has!"

Mercy indeed, though it wasn't mercy that made him pause to think. He needed this heart intact, which meant that he could not, as he usually did, crush it between his fingers to kill the boy. But he also knew, the second that Frankenstein placed this heart into the chest of his brother, the boy would die. He was almost relieved at that thought. His time was limited. But it wasn't him that would be responsible for his death, not really. It was the doctor. It was unfair, but then...so was life. Given that, mercy would be granted in this case, a short reprieve. After all he was certain he wouldn't need the heart until tomorrow when the Doctor's job was completed. And since he'd mentioned his father…

"Finish your work," he commanded. "Go home and forget all of this." Instantly the boy stood up to his full height. The look in his eyes fell away and went glassy as if he was looking without seeing. "Tell your father you love him before you go to bed and say your prayers for life is short and you never can tell which moment will be your last. There is no predicting when that heart in your chest…" -he reached out to jab his finger at the boy's chest where he felt the gentle thrum of his heartbeat- "will cease to beat."

That would do it. When the doctor used the heart for his brother, then the boy's heart would stop, and he would die. He would die after telling his father he loved him. It was merciful. Or at least that was what he told himself. But if he was right, there was one other death that would not be as merciful. When he took the heart back to his tower and fashioned a box, like the ones he'd always taught Cora to use, he knew there was another job to do as night settled. Especially because things had not gone as planned.

He'd been hoping all the time that Frankenstein would force Regina to rip out a heart for him. But she hadn't. He watched instead as she floundered, she took the two men with her back to her former residence, and once inside stole a heart from her mother's former collection. He could have cracked his new crystal ball in irritation. She had no guile; it seemed. How was he supposed to work with her if not even the promise of Daniel was enough to get her to turn to taking a heart for herself?! Still, he grit his teeth, held the Seer's vision in the forefront of his mind, and watched on hoping that what he saw next might be enough to make it true.

The experiment failed. He watched that much for himself. He watched as the doctor had taken the heart, disappeared into the tent, where he started his equipment with the heart stashed away, and began to doomed experiment as ordered. Foolish man. He thought he was saving that heart for himself. It might help him. Cora had taken many hearts, it stood to reason that there was one among them that had been born of True Love with no manifestation, but whether or not he had the one that he needed…the chances of that were slim. The chances of his plan working however…grew stronger by the second.

Regina grieved. When it didn't work, he watched as the men stood aside and let her rest her head on Daniel's still chest and weep. There would be no preservation spell this year. This was crying, mourning as she hadn't allowed herself to mourn over him yet. It was an end for Daniel. But whether it was a new beginning for Regina, remained to be seen. Which was why, when he brought the Doctor and Jefferson back by magic and the Doctor demanded to be taken home with his prize, he stole that box out of his hand and tossed it into the fire.

"Not so fast!" he piqued as the doctor held his breath while it burned. It was the face of a man who thought all his hopes and dreams had just turned to ash. Until he held up the identical box. "This is what you need for your experiments. But our deal is not complete until I've seen the result of your work."

"I've done exactly what you asked of me!"

"Well then you should have nothing to worry about!" he laughed, before tossing the box to Jefferson. "Keep a close eye on that through the night. Tomorrow, _after_ my lesson with Regina, bring him into the woods with the heart. I'll decide if the deal was fair at that time."

"What am I supposed to do here tonight! Spin wool?" the Doctor asked sarcastically, pointing at his wheel the corner.

"You know…it's not a bad way to pass the time."

With a snap of his fingers, the Doctor was gone in a puff of smoke. If his magic worked right, and it always did, he was currently taking up residence in one of the dungeon cells…with a spinning wheel and wool.

"In his own defense, I think it will work," Jefferson stated.

"As do I, but one must always be sure before business is concluded," he noted, thinking to the vision of Regina he had in his head. He hoped it was enough to push her to that. "Make sure my guest remains comfortable. I will meet you in the woods tomorrow."

"I'll bring the…payment!" he said awkwardly, motioning to the box in his hand. He would have loved to have guarded it himself, but there was one last thing he needed to do to make the vision he'd seen a reality.

"Winnifred Sanders…" he muttered, letting himself into her home and sneaking up behind her as she worked on a brew. She jumped when he arrived. He could hear her heart hammering even as she made an attempt to quiet herself and look unimpressed and unsurprised. She was the witch he'd seen Regina kill in his vision. She'd come to him at one point asking for the power, but he hadn't obliged simply because he couldn't. It was practically Regina all over again. Irritating as she was, he'd been tempted to kill her more than once. But perhaps, if his vision was correct, there was one last thing she had to give him.

"Dark One…to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Oh, just a brief…" he crept up closer to the pot that was simmering and smelled. He smelled hazelnut, jasmine, thyme, but also leather, blood, and wax…all ingredients for a Black Flame Candle, a candle that was said to have the ability to bring people back from the dead…but it was a myth. It was a myth that happened to be born out of the two-sided candle that he had sitting in his workspace right now, the same two-sided candle that had gotten Regina into this mess and helped him along in his own. But she didn't need to know that. "…conversation. I do believe your candle needs a bit more thyme."

"What do you want?" she growled, suddenly moving about her worktable, clearing up the mess and shutting the book that she was studying from-a book with a human eye on the cover. He smiled when he noted that through her rifling she managed to add more thyme to her brew.

"Still trying to master the art of Dark Magic with a second-hand book, I see. Still trying to no avail to save thy sisters Sarah and Martha!"

"Mary! And what does it matter to you? I asked you for help. You said you wouldn't provide it."

"Well then today is your lucky day!" he squealed. "I just so happened to wake up in a generous kind of mood. Tell me…" he pushed the book she'd just closed so that it slid off the table and onto the floor with a heavy thump! "How would you like to learn from the Master himself for one afternoon?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to start by saying that I really hate this chapter. It's chaotic in a way that isn't really what I do. There are about four different scenes here that I could have turned into chapters all on their own, but truly they weren't long enough and I didn't feel like stretching this out any longer than it had to be. But this chapter was still necessary to making everything work together. When we last see Jefferson and the Doctor they're telling Regina "oops, it didn't work, too bad," the Doc has the heart, and Jefferson is just kind of there. Yet when we see them next Jefferson has the heart and is clearly "in- charge" of the situation as they meet Rumple in the woods the next afternoon. That's a lot of time and something had to be said about it to turn the tables. I also wanted to get a special heart for Gerhardt because when you compare Gerhardt's resurrection to Daniel's eventual resurrection, the two are different and I wanted to come up with a reason that explained that. Gerhardt has a heart that gives him "his best chance" but Daniel does not. Thus the difference. And then the girl, Winnifred...we see her, but I doubted that anyone would meet the Dark One and just say "yeah okay teach me". I wanted there to be a prior relationship and a reason one might trust him and that led me to her so...it's busy. It's convoluted, it's messy, it's not at all like the chapters I usually write or enjoy writing but it was the best I could do given the circumstances. I promise, the last couple of chapters in this episode are a lot cleaner!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter. I am curious what you'll think of this one, but sort of nervous as well. There were a lot of nice little references in this that I hope made it bearable. The Sanderson Sisters, the reference to Products of True Love being able to guard their hearts, and of course our very first reference to Belle. Not by name of course, but now you know that he's aware she's there. Still no appearance though, that comes later! Peace and Happy Reading!


	63. At Transformation's Start

Winnifred was ambitious. She was also utterly annoying, which was why he'd never wanted to teach her in the first place. It was but one of the many reasons why he'd always turned her down when she first arrived for help. But today, if all played out as he was hoping it would, as he had seen it would in his mind, then his annoyance with her was soon to be over for good. Unless of course she'd managed to make a working Black Flame Candle, but he doubted that with every fiber of his being. Try as he may to see her in his future she wasn't there. And that was just the way he liked it.

Still, Dark One's had a habit of playing with their food, even if they weren't the ones to eat it. For his own entertainment he'd taken her at first light to the place outside the palace that he practiced with Regina, the spot he'd promised to be should the Queen choose to give up on Daniel, the place he believed she would return to. He actually taught the bitch a bit of magic. Just enough that if she tried to fight back against Regina it might make things interesting, but not enough to win. Winnifred did have great power, but she'd only ever been truly strong when her two sisters had been alive. Winnifred had been the clever one of the three, practicing magic through potions and spells. Mary and Sarah had always been a bit more flamboyant with their abilities, and so they'd been caught, and Winnifred had claimed innocence, promising them she'd bring them back to life. Out here in the open, with Regina due any moment, he pressed her to give rise to the powers she had but held back in fear of being caught like her sisters. Freeze time, disappear, move objects! She was capable of every one of those things. And if she chose to fight Regina for her spot, then it would make things interesting, certainly.

But then again…there were other things that could make this interesting.

He had her practicing a suspension spell on a rock the size of her own head as he read to her from the book he'd once loaned to Cora, when he heard footsteps in the distance. A twig broke suddenly, and from the corner of his eye, he spied Regina walking into the clearing in-

She nearly took his breath away.

She moved in strides, not steps; great powerful strides that would have required the entire Kingdom to look upon her lest they anger her. She was dressed in black. From head to toe, tight black clothes that showed off her legs, her chest, her waist…all the right curves that probably would have driven her husband crazy if it weren't for the crazy look in her own eyes. Black they were. Heavy with make-up and…something else…

It wasn't easy to see, not considering the overwhelming nature of everything else about her, but he could see it, the rims of her eyes just beyond the black, they were red. Oh, there may have been a smile on her face, her hair might be pristine, her clothes powerful, but she was a woman in mourning. And that was one of his favorite states to encounter people. In his experience, those who were in mourning rarely acted rationally. In fact, they were just the sort of people who might consider tearing away the heart of the thing they loved most to cast a curse. This was the Regina he'd seen in his vision. This was who he wanted to work with.

"Who's this?" Regina demanded, stepping between him and his new girl. Poor thing, Winnifred was so concentrated upon her rock she hardly seemed to notice Regina there. But if the sizzle of magic coming from beneath Regina's skin said anything, it was that the girl was making a dreadful decision in not doing so.

"Ah, your replacement, of course!" he declared. She should be afraid of the Queen but not him. He was fighting not to cry or look upon her with pride for before him was exactly what he had been hoping to create, the perfect storm, a monster. "I needed someone more dedicated."

"Dedicated?" she breathed with disbelief.

Regina turned. He hadn't even noticed until then that Winnifred had dropped the rock she had been practicing on, letting it fall to the ground with an indignant thud. He had no time to congratulate her on her pitiful successes before Regina plunged her hand into her chest, and pulled forth a glowing, beating heart. Winnifred barely had time to be stunned before Regina returned her gaze to him, and stared him down as the delicate organ began to crack and creak under the strain of her palm. The girl behind her dropped to the forest floor, Regina upturned her hand, and the ash from her heart fell beside her body.

"Now…where were we?" she questioned as he let out a laugh.

Perfect. Perfect and beautiful, and he couldn't dream of having it any other way. This was the Regina he'd seen in his vision, the very first vision, the one that the Seer had given him those many years ago. She still had a long way to go, but if this was only the start, then he longed to see what she would be at the end. The doctor had done his job. Now it was up to him to do his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know. I actually think a lot of the reason I don't like the previous chapter is because of this chapter. There were a few short scenes from the last chapter that I seriously considered attaching to this one but ultimately I decided that this moment was important enough on its own that it needed a chapter. The big reveal of Regina, that's one of the most important chapters in this entire thing. I couldn't have it share space with anything else.
> 
> Big thank yous going out to RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I'm humbled that you liked it, even if I know it's not the best. We've got one more chapter in the 2x05 bit and then, like I promised, time really picks up in this section. Peace and Happy Reading!


	64. From One Monster to Another

After sending his new creation back to her place at the castle to make her husband's mind boggle at her clothes, he returned to his mountain. But he didn't go home. Instead, he made his way deep into the forest, to the place he'd agreed to meet Jefferson and The Doctor for the final word that they could go. He waited a far distance away for he was certain there was to be a fair amount of whining from the Doctor for his treatment as well as his delayed return home, and he didn't particularly feel like hearing it. All he wanted to do was reflect on Regina, on the masterpiece that she was becoming. He was right, there was still enough hesitation in her that he knew she had a ways to go before she was the ruthless queen he needed her to be. But Snow White was young and James even younger. He had his time. What mattered was that she was on the right path. And as impressive as she was, he had to remember that she was only a masterpiece, but not The Masterpiece. That was to come. One day, when she cast his curse, and it was broken, just as he needed it to be…that would be the true Masterpiece. His Masterpiece. This was only a tiny blip of success, a single stroke of the brush, in the midst of a much larger operation that was nowhere near its completion. But if it got him back to Baelfire, then every one of his successes counted for something, damn the consequences.

"Enough!" he heard the Doctor insist from somewhere nearby. "I need to be taken home. Now! I have work to do, and I believe our deal is done!"

Ah yes…the Good Doctor's work…funny thing about that, when he looked into the future for it he saw what might come of it, he saw a world of black and white, a colorful missing arm, and a very big consequence of the heart he was about to give him. But he'd meant it. Damn all the consequences if it meant he could return to his son.

"The deal isn't done until he says it's done," he heard Jefferson insist, and with that, he moved his body and hand to point him out toward the bottom of the hill. In a flash of mercy for Jefferson who was using his hat as a fan, and kindness, he was certain the Doctor would never appreciate, he made his own way up the hill. He'd made them walk far enough.

"Now, now," he shouted at him as Jefferson sat down to breathe. "Patience, please. Our transaction is, uh, nearly complete."

"And are you satisfied with the results?" Frankenstein inquired.

"She did seem rather…heartbroken."

"She is. She bought my failure!"

"You should've seen her tears," Jefferson added, the hat now sitting upon his head as he so often liked to place it when he was around others; a remarkable tool hiding in plain sight.

"I've seen the aftermath," he commented as the Doctor made his way closer to him and he scuttled away up the hill, but not before stopping to look at Jefferson and pat his shoulder. The boy had done a fair job on his own, and he had to give credit where credit was due. "Impressive," he noted, making the hatter smile as he pulled the box he'd given him out from his bag. That was indeed a thing that the Good Doctor only had eyes for.

"Now…my property," he questioned, looking it over.

"Yeah, here it is!" Jefferson handed him the box, and he took it eagerly, but then readjusted himself on that hill, his gaze flipping between the pair of them. "You'll excuse me if I check…" the Doctor knelt down and opened the box before him, inspecting it as if they were trying to trick him. They exchanged a glance as he did, and he watched as Jefferson rolled his eyes, not quite the master at keeping his thoughts to himself as he was. But they were both focused when he finally looked back up at them. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

"Oh, the pleasure was mine," he countered appropriately as the Doctor put the box into his own bag. "Thanks to your efforts, I've made my monster. Now, I do hope you'll be able to make yours."

"I'm not making a monster!" he insisted rising to his feet like some kind of threatened animal.

"Sure you're not." And yet, when he looked into his mind he saw…monsters.

_A world of black and white where lightning flashed and Victor Frankenstein insisted, "not magic, but science." A body moved aimlessly from person to person slaughtering innocents with great strength but also embracing the Doctor. But…he also saw another world, one of color, with steel and straight lines, a room with white sheets that looked like nothing from their world. A light that flickered like lightning in broad daylight and…The Shop. Not "a shop". Those were not the words that came to him, but rather "The Shop", like it was important, like it was special and carried weight. It was wooden and dry and dusty, with glass and trinkets and…there was Victor Frankenstein standing before him, some kind of box on the glass table between them. The Doctor looked him in the eye and stated without his accent, "I need magic."_

How curious. This was not to be their last meeting then.

"Good luck."

"If these hearts are as strong as you say, I won't need luck."

"No, just magic!" he replied.

"No," Frankenstein said with a smile and shake of his head. "What I'm going to accomplish goes far beyond magic." Ah…magic against science. So this was what it was all born of. He did have to admit that sometimes, whether it was helpful or not, the Seer's gift could be quite entertaining at times. He'd have to let Jefferson know once he returned, it was the kind of thing that he would find humorous as well. Especially given the conversation he was about to force him to have.

"And yet, you need a magical heart to do it," he stated, looking down at Jefferson as he made his point. The boy laughed quietly beside him, but Frankenstein was unwavering.

"So small-minded. I need my powers to transcend the limitations of your magic."

"This must be quite a land you hail from if you think your abilities are more powerful."

"They are."

"Care to wager?" he questioned, stepping forward. The bet was always more fun when he knew the outcome. "I suspect, someday, you'll see it my way."

"I doubt it." Frankenstein didn't bat an eye. There wasn't an ounce of belief or fear in him. He merely motioned to Jefferson with eyes that suggested he was bored of all this. "Now, may we go?"

Jefferson, like faithful servant he was, glanced up at him first, looking for permission. He nodded and gave a small flick of his hand to indicate they may, and the realm jumper rose with a great groan.

"Careful, dearie!" he called as Jefferson tossed his hat at the ground like he'd seen him do a number of times before, opening his portal. "Just remember, whatever it is you traffic in, it comes with a price!"

The portal grew, opening into the usual vortex of purple and blue swirls that made the wind around him blow. Frankenstein paid it, nor him, hardly any heed. "We'll see," he commented, then after a moment of making sure the portal was prepared, both men jumped into it and left him there, smiling at his comment. "We'll see" indeed. Of course, he was at an unfair advantage. He'd already seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I have done my job right then this chapter should now appear to you as a breath of fresh air. First and foremost, the interaction that we see between Jefferson and Rumple in this scene, it should seem normal by now. We can see why Rumple treats him the way he does and why Jefferson is so loyal to him. Second of all, we can see where that bet with Frankenstein originates. The Seer provides a lot of entertainment for those kinds of things. She also just gave us our first real, meaningful vision of The Shop. Fun right.
> 
> Thank you to RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I know that one was short, this one isn't too much longer, but I hope that it's enough to satisfy in a number of ways. As promised things are really going to start to race headlong into the future now. In fact, only ten more chapters in the Regina section. The next chapter is another seen one, it mentions Regina but it doesn't feature her so that might be a nice break from Regina for some of us! Peace and Happy Reading!


	65. Flight of the False Prince

The Queen was making excellent progress with her magic, simply excellent! In the last year or so, as Snow White and her dear father began to travel more and the Princess became dedicated to riding, Regina was filled with a bitterness that egged her on her progress. She didn't like the King, but she was a woman, his wife, and he could sense her needs. She needed attention. She desired approval, craved the ability to be good at something, anything that might make him glance her way. In the end, the Dark One's approval was all she was left with. Her growing talents helped and sometimes, when she wore her tight low cut gowns, those helped too. There once was a time that she questioned everything, took her steps slowly, and it was a struggle to get her to commit to anything other than their lessons. Now things had changed. Now she obeyed every command he gave to her, took risks that frequently paid off when coupled with her desperation, and late at night when he checked in on her in her quarters, he saw her practicing. Better yet, she had a lair, a workspace of her own now. A room she'd created with her magic, ready and full to the brim with boxes for hearts that she was slowly collecting. Mostly they were her servants, nobodies who had seen something they shouldn't, but every now and then, when she found someone was particularly irksome and she could get a private moment with them, a heart was taken. She was now the proud owner of a soldier's heart, a noble's heart, the heart of her step-daughter's favorite tutor, and after the most recent bell in a far away Kingdom, a princess's heart.

And he couldn't have been prouder.

The progress she was making was good, it was leaps and bounds ahead of his own. The curse he needed her to cast still eluded him. He looked for it always, constantly. But so far, there had been no luck. He tried to calm himself day after day. He tried to tell himself that between his searching and Jefferson's searching they were bound to stumble upon it. And there was still time. There was lots of time left to find it, but that didn't change the fact that he knew he'd feel a lot better on the day that he held the curse in hand. Though his books and visions helped him know some of the ways he needed still to prepare Regina, he knew that he couldn't truly know anything until he saw it for himself. And then came the task of convincing her to do it. Regina wasn't her sister, crazed and desperate to please that she'd ruin an entire realm for him. No, Regina was going to be a tricky beast. He was going to have to stoke the animosity between her and her step-daughter so that it grew until she resented not only her Snow White, but the entire realm for supporting her. He had to make it so that the curse was her only option at "winning". For that he had to be sure the board was set and every chess piece was in his control. And he wasn't going to do that until he had the damn curse in hand!

A knock at the door suddenly summoned him from his thoughts. It was a good time for visitors. Summer had passed just enough that hiking up the great mountain to see him was no longer a terrible burden, but it was before the cool of Winter set in up in the higher altitudes making it perfect. All this translated to was "a beautiful time" for those seeking the Dark One's assistance, and a "busy time" for the Dark One himself. He couldn't wait until Winter truly came, and he could leave this chilly existence for more travel…hopefully this season he'd find his curse. Until then…

He heard the knock on the door, but his mind was too busy spinning nearly as fast as his wheel that he couldn't be bothered to get it. Instead he simply allowed his magic to unlock and open, if the fool wasn't brave enough to step inside and find him then he didn't want whatever it was he sought hard enough to be worth his time.

"Hello?!" someone called. "Is anyone here?"

He didn't respond. Partially because he didn't know how. He recognized that voice, he recognized it and felt his stomach drop and his heart begin to race. That was the Shepherd. It was David's father. He lived weeks away from him, what on earth was he doing here? Had something happened to David? And why was he so fearful of that if James was the one he was supposed to be worried about?

"Six years ago, you took my son!" he called, his footsteps as well as the echo indicating that he was in the room. Obviously the open door had been easy enough to follow. "And now I need your help."

Was that it? Could he simply be unaware of the issues surrounding the King's boy and wanted his other son back? That was something he could handle. A simple spell would be all he needed to ensure James stayed safe and arrived back in the hands of his father the King?

"Well, I'm sorry! A deal's a deal!" he laughed, smiling over his worry as he worked the wool in his hand. "Can't give you back the boy."

"I'm not asking for that," he replied. "But James...he's missing. I want you to help me find him."

Missing. Was he really? The boy would only be about six now, he'd not thought to check in on him as often as he had Regina over the years though now he knew precisely what he'd be doing when he got up from his place at the wheel. Double-checking what the hell King George was doing that a six-year-old prince was able to go "missing". The boy was important, he couldn't afford to lose him. Luckily, whether he knew it or not, the boy had another father who appeared was more than willing to help in his search. Perhaps he would be able to get James back where he needed to be without ever having to leave this castle. And a good thing too, he knew that blood was the best, often the most dedicated, to finding what they lacked. Perhaps dear Robert was just what the boy needed.

"Ah. And what would you offer me for this little feat of magic?" he questioned.

"I have nothing to offer!" the man proclaimed. Honesty. He could always appreciate that.

"Not much of a negotiator, are you?"

"You owe me," he stated in reply.

"So..." Finally, he stopped his spinning and turned to face the poor father. "You finally grew a spine…"

"I think I finally became a father," he corrected. "I'd do anything to see my boy...and tell him I'm...I'm sorry."

Ah…so a father he had become. And a truthful one at that, for his advance was often times enough to make strong men suddenly weak but as he walked toward him Robert didn't take a step back. the poor man rocked a little unsteady on his feet, perhaps, smelled of stale alcohol, certainly, but waver out of fear? Not at all. He had to look away from such a man. For a moment he feared and hoped he might look into the eyes of his own father and hear words like that, for just a moment, he heard those own words repeating over and over in his head, one of the things he was determined to say to Baelfire again, one day, when they were together. Perhaps then his son might break this terrible tradition they had in their family. But the truth was that Robert was neither Pan, nor the Black Fairy, not Baelfire, nor him! And, in fact, he owed him nothing. It was a good transaction, clean, fair, and honest. But he hadn't expected the parents to always see it that way. Having Robert here, now, it was proof that time had finally arrived. How good for dear Ruth.

"You know, I don't have time for maudlin stories! And everything has a price," he insisted suddenly, perhaps a bit too loudly. That was certainly not the character that Robert needed out of him at the moment. And frankly, he had a sudden desire, looking at Robert, to get him out of this castle and dispose of this memory at the wheel. Clearly the hopes of a child never really died, just hid themselves well. "Although I-I could be persuaded to help you in exchange for, uh...one hair off your head. Small things can have great power!"

Robert nodded. "Fine. It's yours." Good, the sooner this was over the sooner he could figure out what was actually going on. He couldn't use a mirror charm because he didn't know where the boy was to look in a reflection, nor could he use the blood of his father because that kind of spell took far too long, a locator potion or spell would never work as his father had nothing of his and frankly, following something around in that way would look a tad suspicious. Instead, he summoned the glass ball to him and looked deep inside of it.

Though sound was still elusive this little toy had come in quite handy since he'd acquired it. He was able to easily see the reason the Wizard had gained such notoriety through it, despite having no magic himself. In fact, it had done the very thing he'd wanted it to do. Through this very crystal ball, he'd seen the Apprentice. He'd seen the house at the bottom of the mountain that Jefferson had described and confirmed his suspicions. The old man in the red robe was, in fact, The Apprentice. Somehow, he'd managed to hide his house and his presence from right under his nose. But the crystal, being magic that didn't belong to him, was something the Apprentice could not have prepared for. Of course, he didn't dare approach the Apprentice or do much more than watch him in this ball at the moment. For now, the Apprentice believed that it was he who was watching him and not the other way around, which meant that for once the Apprentice was right where he wanted him to be. There was no telling what he might do if he was caught and gave him the idea that he knew where he was. He was closer than any Dark One had ever been to conquering that old fool. Now was the time for patience. Among other things of course.

As he gazed into the crystal ball, he focused on Prince James and the images that came to it were not ones he expected, but made sense all the same.

"Curious…" he commented as he watched the image of a brown-haired boy crawl out of bed, dress hastily before grabbing a rucksack, and then leave his bedroom quietly so as not to wake the guard who was sleeping outside.

"The boy wasn't abducted at all. He ran away." The images changed, the boy meeting some very unsavory men, men who snuck him on a ship and then laughed about it after he was hidden. The place they'd taken him, an island, one that he was aware of only because he'd been watching Jiminy, who was keeping an eye on Geppetto, who had recently invented a wooden puppet the Blue Bug had brought to life only to have it run away to the same place. That incident had left both Geppetto and Jiminy in great distress, but gave him not a care for there was still no sign of the dark-haired man who would know his son. What were the chances that both Pinocchio and James would both end up on Pleasure Island…this was a situation that would require watching.

"But where he went to...you don't want to follow."

"Why?! Where is he?!" Robert insisted as he set the glass bauble aside.

"In a land built from temptation. And I have an extra ticket in."

In the palm of his hand, he produced a ticket for the man that would get him on a ship that would take him to James. Robert lunged and he was quick to pull it away. A deal was, after all, a deal; no matter how simple and cheap the pricetag.

"Ah! Hair first!" he insisted. Robert leaned forward willingly and allowed him to pluck one hair from the top of his head with barely a wince, for the moment he'd plucked it off, that was the moment Robert took the ticket from his hand. A perfect exchange. "Our second deal is now complete," he concluded stepping up to Robert. Still the man showed no sign of fear or anxiety. Instead, he offered a small bow and muttered a quick "thank you" before grabbing the bag at his feet, dragging it to the door, and leaving.

He reclined against the table as he left and inspected the hair he'd plucked. "Small things can hold great power…" he muttered in a singsong voice, mocking his own words. Of course, they were true words, small things could have great power but as he looked this small hair in his hand over, he was more than confident that this thing, had no power at all. Not for him. He had the very strong urge from the Seer that Robert would be dead soon, and with his interest laying mostly in the False Prince, Robert was of no consequence. And so, he felt nothing when he brushed his hands and let the hair float to the ground where it would turn to dust. Right along with Robert. But…perhaps, because of this, he might get the chance to know the son he'd allowed him to take, if only for one brief moment before his life was extinguished, perhaps he might become in that moment the father that his son's deserved. That was all he ever hoped for himself, that someday, when the moment came he was face to face with his own son again, he might become that very same thing. Someday. Someday.

"Someday...may we all be reunited with our sons…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was really no other place I was comfortable putting this chapter. I know we kind of talked about this before in a previous post but, refresher...Snow White is older than David in a somewhat significant way. This chapter, when paired with the 2x05 chapter, proves it. We know that Snow White is about ten when Regina comes into her life, marries her Dad, and becomes the Queen. In the last episode, we saw Jefferson bring the crystal ball to Rumple (while Regina, who it is explicitly stated is the Queen), in this episode we see him use that crystal ball to get James back. From the looks of it, James is about six or so. And yes, in the series there is no way to tell how far apart these two episodes fall, but I wanted to keep it fairly soon after because while "Snow is older than David in a somewhat significant way" she's not older than him in a creepy "robbing the cradle" kind of way. When they're adults they don't look too far apart in age so I couldn't have them be ten years apart. I was happy with putting this chapter here and making them a healthy 4-5 years apart.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm interested in your reaction to this one. At its heart, this chapter wasn't too terribly significant in my book, but the meaning behind it certainly is. I think what's most important is the confirmation that the Apprentice is living close to him. How will that be important...you will soon figure it out! In the meantime, I hope you'll think this chapter is okay! Peace and Happy Reading!


	66. The Art of Meddling

He could remember, long ago, when he'd first become the Dark One and understood he was immortal until the curse ended, wondering when he would begin to feel the weight of the years he'd lived on his shoulders. The answer was now. In the times when the world around him felt calm and easy, fleeting even, but his mind hummed with work to do, spells, even visions of the future that he realized just how old he was.

James was eight today. Eight years old already. It seemed like yesterday his father had stopped by, seeking help in finding the son he'd traded to the King and succeeding before the King had ordered him killed. Since then, poor David and his mother had begun to struggle again, but the Seer in the back of his mind had encouraged him to send work their way simply because "it wasn't time yet". There was something at work, something that he tried to focus on, and yet when he focused on the future, he saw Ruth in her hut and the False Prince at King George's side, just as he had been for nearly two years. It was a shame really that after James met and married Snow White, Regina would hate them both as much as they would. She had more in common with James than she would ever know. But for now, Snow White remained the object of her frustration, and it was good.

Over the years, he'd learned that there was an art to meddling in someone's life. Some individuals wanted and even needed their paths laid out for them on a silver platter. Those were the clients that he found himself most busy with. They were the ones who required little but specific tasks that kept his mind busy and his hands experimenting. But then there were the clients like Regina. In those situations, he thought of himself more like a clockmaker. It was his job to simply wind them up, meddle a little bit with gentle nudges and pushes when necessary, and then watch life unfold before them as he intended.

When he'd first met her, shy and quiet, even kind, were all words he'd used to describe her, and he'd prepared himself to have to meddle in her life a great deal to spur on the jealousy Regina felt toward Snow White. In the end, all she needed was nudging. A carefully placed comment here or there are his part was all that was required of him. Time was doing the rest. And while that pleased him enormously most of the time, sometimes, like tonight, it drove him mad with anger.

She was skipping her lesson. Again. Leopold had taken Snow White out on another tour, leaving Regina home alone, and for whatever reason, she'd decided not to come to him despite the plans they'd made. He knew she'd decided because it took all of two seconds for him to summon her image in his mirror and find her reclining at her seat at the table alone, sulking and scowling in the dark. She was petulant, reminding him of a hormonal teenager sometimes. Her sorcery skills were improving greatly. But along with it so was her confidence. She was beginning to question why she needed him and talk of growing more powerful than he was, a laughable goal. She was beginning to comb through her mother's old books and wonder if she couldn't teach herself, and if he was honest, more than once, he was tempted to let her; especially in those times she dared to ask what it would take to be more powerful than he. But he couldn't let her teach herself. The second he'd had the thought, Baelfire's face had come into his vision and he knew that was one thing he couldn't afford not to meddle in. The lessons he was teaching her were about to change. It wasn't lessons in sorcery she needed, though in a way she still did. Now it was simply lessons of life that he had to teach her lest she swerve and end up-

"Hey!"

A shudder nearly rocked through him at the sound of Jefferson screeching behind him. Another attempt to scare him born of a conversation they'd had a few months back. A conversation that he now regretted more than any other he'd ever had with the man.

"You jumped! I think I got you that time!" he declared, circling the tower and coming into view.

"Where have you been?" he growled at the boy. It had been a few weeks since Jefferson's last stop by. Though he felt very strongly it hadn't been enough time. The agreement he'd reached with Regina years ago to travel to her land was supposed to make stops like this less frequent; sometimes it didn't seem like it helped. It was only recently that Jefferson had met a girl, another realm jumper like himself that he'd made himself more scarce. Which was fine, so long as it didn't detract from the job he was meant to be doing.

"Wonderland. I brought you…" he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of small crackers, then a large bottle of what appeared to be wine. "Food! But don't eat or drink it if you know what's good for you."

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of what the cuisine of Wonderland does to the body. These are helpful, but not what I sent you out to seek. Have you, by any chance, found my curse?!"

"Oh! Yeah! Years ago! Did I forget to tell you?"

His heart didn't race, nor did it skip a beat as Jefferson jumped up onto one of the tables. He knew when he was being a caddy bastard, and he was now. Any other topic of conversation and he might have responded with the same kind of sarcasm he was offering, but not when it came to the curse. Jefferson's face fell and he rolled his eyes in the silence.

"No," he admitted. "Don't you think after all these years I would have told you if I did?"

"What you would do is sometimes beyond even my abilities to predict."

"Well then, let me assure you. Nothing so far. There were lots of people talking in Wonderland recently, and I thought I was on to something, thus why I was there so long, but it turns out the curse they were talking about was their Queen."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, calls herself the Queen of Hearts, wears a mask, only talks to her footman. Rumor is that she's something of a fan of ripping out hearts and keeping them in some kind of vault. Also, something about roses being red…or maybe white…can't quite remember that one. I don't know."

Queen of Hearts. A fan of ripping hearts out. Well…now he knew what Cora was doing with her time. He'd always known she'd gone to Wonderland, what she made of herself once she'd gotten there had remained a complete mystery up until now, but it appeared that Cora had finally become the Queen she'd always dreamed she would be. It wasn't surprising. Cora was enough of a conniving bitch; he didn't put much past her. But if Jefferson was there as his emissary…

With a sigh, he rose from his place at the spinning wheel and went to a special cupboard he kept a few handy and completed potions in. This one in particular might help Jefferson should he ever find himself face to face with Cora.

"Here…" he exclaimed plucking one with the picture of a human heart under it out of his rack and tossing it to him. He made a note to remember to make another one tomorrow. Jefferson caught the bottle and stared down at it in his hand. "That will ensure your heart stays in your chest."

Jefferson nodded and removed the top before glancing over at him and raising his eyebrows. "For a favor?" he asked.

"For a favor," he confirmed with a smile. Annoying as he was, and even though he'd been unsuccessful at finding his curse, Jefferson was still his most profitable alliance. That being said, the man was starting to acquire quite the debt. They'd made so many of these sorts of deals he'd lost count. He used magic to get the boy out of numerous scrapes before and always "for a favor". He had a sneaking suspicion that Jefferson thought it was all a joke of some kind. One day he'd be in for a surprise.

"Now go…I have a lesson to teach Regina."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" he saluted, hopping off the table. "I'm taking my girl out to the ball tonight anyway."

"The ball?!" he scoffed. "I wasn't aware of any balls tonight."

"Not in this realm," he shrugged. "Besides, it's not so much the ball we're looking forward to as the fancy crown they're keeping in their castle which will be left unguarded tonight. We've both got our eyes on that prize. Which of us will get it…that's all part of the fun! And really what kind of infant needs a crown, anyway?"

Without warning he felt something turn within him. The girl was one thing but plotting together as they were was another thing. He had a terrible feeling about it all but knew because of his character there was nothing he could say to make Jefferson see the light. Whatever the feeling meant he'd have to decipher it on his own.

"Careful with this girl, Jefferson. One dance can lead to another if you're not cautious."

"Oh, I know!" he smiled slyly. "I'm rather hoping that one kind of dance will lead to another kind…if you catch my drift."

He did, because it was exactly that kind of dance he rather thought Jefferson didn't need at the moment. Or at least he didn't need Jefferson to have it. The girl was already proving to be a distraction, and that was without being a pretty receptacle for his cock. He hated to see what might become of him if she managed to drag him to bed.

"At least attempt to stay out of trouble."

"Pfft!" he tutted, rolling his eyes. "Like I'd dream of trouble…night, Pops!" he called practically skipping down the stairs.

Pops. Jefferson had first called him that a few months ago. It was always in jest, usually when he corrected him about getting into trouble or staying out too late. Initially, he'd done it to mock how much he sounded like he was his father, but now that word was coming a little bit too easily. Perhaps Regina wasn't the only one who needed a lesson. He might need to knock Jefferson off his high horse and remind them that their relationship was one strictly born out of necessity and business, not because he actually cared for the realm jumper. He had eyes on one son and one son only, and that was Baelfire. There was no room in his heart for anything else and frankly, he was certain there wasn't a heart big enough, aside from Bae's, for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a nice solid Jefferson Chapter. And really, what an important chapter it is. It's a short conversation, but you as the reader are meant to get a lot out of it. Yeah, obviously Rumple cares for Jefferson more than he lets on, but now you can see that's becoming something of a two way street for Jefferson as well. He is actively visiting when he doesn't have to, bringing him back souvenirs when he's not required, and of course, he's jokingly calling him "Pops" and doing things like trying to surprise him. Despite what Rumple wants/thinks, this should resemble something of a father/son relationship right now. Rumple is giving him advice, telling him not to stay out too late, and now he's given him a potion that will protect his heart from Cora in Wonderland. (Come on, you never wondered why the woman who was fond of ripping out hearts decided to behead Jefferson instead?) No matter what Rumple thinks this is a relationship that has entered a place he never intended for it to go. Why? Well...you'll figure that out soon enough. Spoiler alert, if you are a fan, you probably won't be happy about it. Just trust that I'm doing it for a reason.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments! Much appreciated as always. I hope that my Jefferson fans will be warmed by this chapter and especially by the part about "the girl". I was asked if we'd see any of what happened with Jefferson in the comic play out as A&E have said that the comics are canon. My answer...sort of. Maybe after reading this, you can get more of an idea of what that "sort of" means. Rumple didn't really have anything to do with that story in the comic, but it is a major part of Jefferson's life so we're going to kind of watch it from afar as we do here. We might not meet Priscilla, but we're going to hear about her and Jefferson's relationship with her throughout. Obviously it's in the early stages here. We'll get more on it through Rumple's eyes in these next few chapters. Peace and Happy Reading!


	67. Regina's Rage

When he appeared in the empty seat opposite Regina, he could feel her unhappiness and irritation. But for what? She wasn't dressed the way that she liked to be these days, the way he liked her to be because her black and sexy garments helped her to channel some of her confidence into power, which bled into her magic. Instead, she was wearing something that, if he had to guess, the King had probably given her to make her appear softer and kinder to the people, like some kind of delicate flower. Judging by the waves of aggression rolling off of her at the moment, he'd need far more than a garment to convince the people of that. Perhaps the King should have started with a marriage that wasn't a complete falsity, upheld at this point only for appearances. Though, at this point, he supposed he should be thankful for that sham of a marriage. It worked in his own favor.

Regina wasn't as crazy as her sister or heartless as her mother. In truth, she was simply average, capable of being swayed one way or another. She was, like all humans, manipulatable. That was why he was here, after all. But being easy to manipulate meant that it could easily always play out another way. Regina wanted love, if not from Daniel then from someone. She wanted to succeed at being good too, he could sense that just as easily as he could sense her frustration now. With all hope that Daniel might someday be resurrected squashed, she'd finally buried him outside her estate, in the fields the pair used to ride together. And the irony in all of that was that now, if he tried, the King might have a chance. Yes, he was twice her age, but that didn't so much matter to other girls of the Kingdom. If the King had tried, if he attempted to court his wife, invite her for long walks by the shore of his castle, read poetry, engage her in conversation, pay attention to her, or whatever tricks men like Jefferson used to get women into their beds, then Regina might have been salvageable. In time he'd break her, she would fall in love with him, learn to forgive Snow White, and they might actually have a decent chance at having a loving and even healthy relationship. They might even learn to support each other in their mutual relationships.

It was a very good thing for him that the King didn't try.

For here she sat in the dark, alone, in one of the gowns he'd purchased for her to try and change who she was turning into. And where was her King? His reports said that he was out with his daughter on another people-pleasing mission. Without his wife? Who he supposedly loved and dressed and wanted the people to love so much?! The wife he turned a blind eye to when it came to her magic and her hatred of his daughter. That would, of course, come back to bite him eventually. But for now, the Queen was here, and her King was away. And all that accomplished was that he got to take a bite out of the Queen.

"I thought you were dead!"

Regina jumped in her seat and fumbled her goblet before looking up to meet his gaze across the table.

"Go away," she snapped. Her tone hadn't changed, fortunately. Before Daniel's failed resurrection, her voice had been so light and airy, so girlish, and now it was only harsh and severe and ragged. Dressed in white or black, it seemed that it made no difference. Good. At least that pleased him.

"When you didn't show up for your lessons today, I assumed you went toes up. And yet, here you are…"

She said nothing, just left him to look at the quiet banquet for one the servants had prepared for her, and...oh!

"Roast Swan!" he exclaimed, looking it over and laughing as the image of Regina staring daggers at the blonde-haired Savior, "The Swan," filled his head all over again. "That's amusing! You'll get that later," he commented, seeing the Queen's lack of amusement.

"I'm not sure about these lessons anymore," she drawled. "I don't wanna have a future that looks like…"

"Like what?" he pressed.

"Like you," she snarled in a low tone. Well, now, there was a woman in a sour mood if he had ever seen one. How pathetic, he thought they'd moved past this long ago, after Daniel. First she didn't want to be like her mother, now she didn't want to be like him…she had to be someone!

"Feeling a little persecuted, are we, your Majesty?" he snapped.

"Why shouldn't I? I'm the Queen, but practically a prisoner. With a husband whose heart is still with his dead wife and his insipid daughter." He watched as her hand grew into a fist at the mention of Snow White, and he bit back a smile. He'd been noticing that more and more lately, Snow White was becoming the object of her derision, someone she was growing increasingly tired and jealous of. That worked for him just fine! "It's intolerable. Nothing to do and nowhere to go!" she let out a sigh of frustration as she rose, and tears threatened to intrude on their conversation or perhaps just her ranting. "I need freedom. I need options."

"Ah, can't be done. You see, this is how it is," he explained as she moved around her chair. Options were dangerous. The game he was playing was dangerous. He was giving her magic, something that would, in fact, enable her to leave this place and hide from the King quite well for the rest of her life. But he needed her here. He could see that clear as day with the Seer in his head. Regina's departure would never get him what he needed to get back to Bealfire. He needed her here, but more than anything, he needed her to see this life and only this life. And he needed to let that fill her with hatred, the very darkness she was desperate to rid herself of. "You think you're the diner at the feast, tasting the offerings; a little love; a little darkness. What you don't realize is, you are the feast. And the darkness has tasted you."

"Oh, you're vile," she sneered, advancing on him. "Leave my home!"

He could do that, but he couldn't change what had already begun in her. He could leave, but she'd be back because what he and the King and even Snow White and Cora had left her with, was only him. He was the only source of freedom and power she ever got. It was a temptation that she could never ignore, not anymore, not without someone else to support her, and fortunately for him, there was no one.

"The darkness likes how you taste, dearie. It doesn't mind the bitter. And now that it's started the meal, it's gonna finish it. You can no more fly from your fate than can that Swan," he concluded, pointing at the bird on the table but seeing the blonde in his mind's eye. Her fate was sealed too, and she hadn't even been born yet. But in thinking of her he was getting ahead of himself. This was a step by step operation after all. And the next steps all lay with Regina.

"See you tomorrow. Don't be late. Oh, and bring that simmering rage. It's all you have!" he exclaimed before he vanished from her sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Placing this chapter was hell on earth. I did a lot of research for this fiction and whenever this episode came up I was happy to find that it wasn't just me that struggled with it. Often I found that people agreed it doesn't seem to be a story issue, so much as a wardrobe issue (hair and make-up share the blame too). All seem to be in agreement that with this attitude the episode obviously takes place after the Doctor failed to resurrect Daniel. The problem is her clothes. At the end of the 2x05 episode, Regina appears in all Black sporting her "new look". That scene has an air of surprise and revelation. And yet in this scene, she has all the attitude of "Daniel is gone so suck it up buttercup", but is wearing a long flowing white gown with her hair down. It sounds like what we saw at the end of 2x05 but it doesn't look like it. I tried everything to make this episode work better. I even tried having it happen right after the resurrection and the "reveal" came later...it just didn't fit together. So this was the best I could do with it. I tried to explain her clothes. I'm sorry if you don't think it's up to snuff.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments and your constant support of this fiction. I know it's a long one but I'm so grateful that you are sticking with me for it. That means more than you know after writing it! Peace and Happy Reading!


	68. Heartless Satisfaction

"I see we're no better today than we were yesterday…" he murmured. It was either that or Regina had taken his orders to bring her rage as seriously as possible.

She was here, in the tower just as he'd ordered her to be, but she was still miserable as she'd been the day before. Odd, somedays he could swear the brown was going out of her eyes, making them nothing but deep black abysses. Those eyes seemed to get darker just as her voice seemed to get lower. He'd told her to bring her rage and today she had, she'd brought it all with her and it was so potent in the air today he knew he wanted to teach her about manipulating weather. Anger like she had this moment could be easily channeled into lightning and who knew…maybe she'd strike the house of the Apprentice and solve one problem for him.

"I'm here," she snapped without enthusiasm. "You never said I had to be better than yesterday. In fact…you told me to come angry!"

"I told you to bring 'simmering rage', dearie, not fire. And speaking of fire…have you been practicing?"

She glared at him, black eyes underneath black eyelashes because she knew just as well as he did that her ability to craft fire hadn't improved yet. Funny thing, magic and emotions. The pair were linked together in ways that seemed magical on their own sometimes. Regina's inability to learn fire, at least at first, came from a lack of angry in her pretty, pristine, innocent little life. Now Regina knew darkness, she knew rage and was learning to embrace both. But the problem with her ability to create fire was that the anger had to be properly focused and channeled. At the moment, Regina knew too much anger to do that. That innocent little girl had opened the door on grief and depression and frustration and anger and now it was too overwhelming to focus. She despised her step-daughter, felt irritation, at the very least for her husband, she felt guilt and grief and fury toward her mother, and anger toward her father who never rescued her. And of course he held no hope at being excluded from her frustrations. As her knowledge and abilities increased their lessons grew more and more difficult which set him up to be very frustrating on even the best of days as if he wasn't frustrating all on his own. She was angry at the world. Therefore, it was too much to hope that she'd be able to channel fire, but that didn't mean he was going to stop pushing…

"I assume that whatever it is you are setting up over there is for our lesson today," she answered, her own attempt at trying to redirect their conversation.

"Indeed it will," he sighed looking over the objects he was setting out for her. They weren't so much magical tools but they were certainly tools that would help her to direct her anger if she wanted to. A lightning rod, a rain gauge, a windsock, and a few other weather-related items. None of these, of course, would make any difference if he couldn't get her to cool her anger a bit. Or at least channel it. What exactly was bothering the Queen? "But only if you want it to."

"'If I want it too'..."

"Today we'll be learning to manipulate weather, make it rain, make it snow, make lightning flash and thunder crash!" he cried out dramatically before looking down at her again. "But I think there is something else you'd rather discuss first."

"Like what? Stop prodding and just ask your questions!"

"Well if I knew what you'd like to discuss then I wouldn't be prodding, now would I," he pointed out. Magic required a clear head and since he'd stumbled upon her yesterday it was clear she didn't possess that. "Methinks you've got…something on your mind…" he stated in a singsong voice.

"What would you know about my mind?" she questioned, though he took note of the fact that her voice lifted a little, the darkness she held around her turned into a darker gray.

"More than you know!" he proclaimed before he took the opportunity to make a show of sitting on his spinning stool, crossing one leg over the other, and raising his head in mock anticipation. "Go on, tell old 'Papa Rumple' what's keeping you up at night!"

She stared at him for a while with skepticism. He understood it. They had done a lot together since their first meeting, discussed many things in addition to the magic he taught her but this was the first time there was no cover for their discussions. They'd never simply sat and had a conversation. It wasn't his favorite thing to do. Conversations had him constantly aware of what he was saying and how he was saying it. They opened the door to sharing information so that individuals might trust him and that led to the potential for that information to be shared or used in ways that might make him weak, as Zelena had attempted with her meat pie.

But he'd be a fool if he hadn't expected at least a few of these conversations with Regina. What did he know about the inside of her mind, more than she thought but not nearly enough either. This was how it was done, this was how he had to figure it out and sort through it all, so he could make her into a witch strong enough to make fire and then one day cast his curse. He didn't like it, but in a way he'd known this was coming ever since he'd snuck up on her eating yesterday. This was where it would lead.

So while Regina was silent for a long while, quietly challenging him to grow impatient or uncomfortable and move on, he held his ground. He stayed propped on his stool in expectation, reminding himself that he had nothing but time. Eventually, he saw her crack. A grimace grew over her face as she looked away, hunched her shoulders and sighed.

"My mother…she was happy with her magic?"

"Well now," he exclaimed with a laugh of derision. "I don't think we should presume your mother ever had the heart to be happy about anything." Had the heart…he couldn't help but smile at his own personal joke. He was fairly sure that Regina hadn't a clue about what her mother had done to her own heart but she knew at least that happiness, any emotion really, never came easy to Cora. But he knew why.

"Fine…she wasn't happy, but she was satisfied with it…wasn't she?"

"Satisfied in what way?" he prodded. There were a number of ways an individual could be satisfied, and despite the nasty things that appeared in his mind at first he was fairly certain that Regina was getting to the heart of the matter.

"Every way. A way she couldn't find satisfaction from me or even my father. A purpose that life couldn't give her but magic could…"

"That's true. Magic was her god, if capable of such emotion, it would have been her passion."

In fact, before she had discarded her own heart, it had been her passion. It had been their passion and what a beautiful passion it had made and would have made, if only he hadn't seen too late how she'd valued it over him.

"It was enough for her. All her life, magic was enough, everything else was just…extra?"

He wouldn't have used those words. Extra still implied something with emotion and that wasn't true. For Cora magic was everything. Still, that was just an issue of semantics.

"That's more or less true. Cora liked what magic brought to her. Power, strength, dominance. She'd have taken up a pipe and run rats out of town if it promised her those things."

"Power…you think it'll be enough to sustain me? Because some nights like last night…"

"Last night…what happened last night…"

Ah, now she hadn't expected to say what she's just said. That much was clear in the look that he gave her. It was a look that a deer had when a carriage suddenly rattled along down the road and they were so consumed in watching it that they couldn't see an escape route. He hadn't kept watch on Regina last night, he hadn't felt a need too, but now he suddenly had the urge to question if he should have. She wouldn't have referenced last night if there wasn't a reason. They were getting somewhere with their conversation. Whatever happened to Regina last night, it was the key to what she was experiencing now. What had his little apprentice done…?

It was the fairies. Well, it was one fairy he wasn't familiar with to be precise, but a fairy all the same. He fought to hold back his scowl as Regina confessed the tale to him about how she'd gone out onto her balcony and "accidentally" taken a tumble. A fairy had saved her, they'd spent much of that night and the next day talking and with the help of some stolen fairy dust, yesterday the Pixie had taken Regina to meet her soul mate. His heart felt as though it might beat out of his chest as she described a bar and a man sitting there with a lion tattoo on his wrist. The fairy had left her to meet him on her own…and she left.

She hadn't gone into the bar to meet him. Not out of a sense of loyalty or devotion to her current husband, but he could see the fear in her eyes even as she'd told him about it, the guilt she felt over sending that fairy away last night upset. He couldn't feel anything for such a bug. What he did feel was relief. Last night he'd spent his time lecturing Jefferson on spending too much time with his fling and how it would lead to destruction. He'd had no idea just how close he'd been to the destruction of the one thing he needed more than anything to get him back to his son.

"You were too afraid to go inside…" he concluded for her. "You've longed for love all your life…why didn't you go inside?" In truth, he hadn't meant to ask the question out loud. But he did feel an overwhelming urge to know the truth. He'd nearly lost her and yet he hadn't. Why? Such information had just helped him. Could it be helpful once more?

Regina only grimaced as she shook her head. "Love has never given me anything but grief," she admitted quietly.

"An unfortunate side effect."

"What proof do I have this would have been any different than Daniel or King Leopold?"

"None whatsoever."

She nodded in agreement. "So I started thinking...maybe with magic things can be different. Magic was enough for my mother, maybe…maybe it could be enough for me. Love won't get me what I want but magic…magic just might."

"And that, my dear is a worthy goal…" he muttered rising to his feet to grab a lightning rod from the table.

"I was afraid last night, I was afraid when you first showed up in my bedroom, and I used to be afraid when I thought about my mother and her magic but now…now I don't feel so afraid," she muttered absent-mindedly as he handed her the rod. She took it in her fist and instantly the sizzle in the air he'd felt before began to move with purpose.

He hated fairies, though in this case he found a small part of himself was grateful as he watched her. Was it possible this strange creature had actually just done him a favor?

"What do you feel now?" he questioned watching her as she stared at the lightning rod as though she knew what it was or what it could do. Suddenly a roll of thunder echoed from outside the tower window and he stood aside just in time for a stray bolt of lightning to come from the inside to touch the metal of the rod in her hand. Concentrated, focused power.

Regina smirked.

"Strong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite chapter, but one that I still felt was necessary to bridge the gap. I did want Regina to learn something from her experience with Tinkerbell and when I considered what that might look like this is what I came up with. Again, not my favorite chapter, but I will swear up and down that it's 100% necessary to this story. It helps Regina to evolve.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments. I am curious as to what you'll say about this chapter and even more curious as to what you'll think about the next chapter. It's not a Regina chapter, it's not even a Jefferson chapter, but it is a very crucial chapter in Rumple's timeline. It's about an object (or objects really) that we saw him with on the show but we never actually saw how he came to possess. It's important for a number of reasons and I can almost guarantee you don't know what's coming. Shall we find out? Peace and Happy Reading!


	69. Unexpected Results of a Summoning

Summonings were the most irritating part of being a Dark One. He was lucky enough that they didn't happen often, but when they did, it always seemed to interrupt something important.

He had a lesson with Regina tonight at midnight. He was determined to take her out into the dark woods and force that firepower out of her if it was the last thing he did! She was getting so close to using that power and being a self-sustaining sorceress and yet…

He was far away. He'd been about to leave when he sensed the calling. It was strong, but not to the point that he had to go. Still, the feeling that he had inside of him told him that he wanted to go, that it would be profitable. And though Regina was waiting for him, his curiosity was piqued enough that he allowed his magic to carry him there. He was there, but he maintained that there was no rule he had to be happy about it.

But determined as he was to be uninterested the second he arrived, he found himself swallowed up in mystery. There was snow on the ground and floating in the air. His breath came out in puffs of white as he looked around. It was nearly pitch-black outside, no street lights were lit, the moon was hidden behind the clouds, but he could still make out that he was in a town square of some kind. And he was alone. That was odd. For the summoning to work someone had to have enacted it, but it appeared that there was no one around. Everyone was in their bed asleep. But when he extended his senses he could make out two heartbeats nearby, both quick. It was when he spun around to locate one of them that he found the body. By the well there was a woman laying on the ground. He advanced on her, the direction of one of the heartbeats, thinking it might be her own, that she was the summoner and was dying, but it was very clear to him the closer he got that the woman was not the owner of the heartbeat. She was not the owner of any heartbeat. She was dead.

Newly dead it appeared. He knelt down next to her and put his hand to her cheek and still felt some warmth, despite the cold, despite the fact that she must have been freezing before she'd died. There were at least two inches of snow on the ground, and yet she wore no shoes, nothing on her feet whatsoever except a bracelet around her ankle. She was covered in jewelry now that he looked at her. Bracelets on her wrists, necklaces that had settled against her chest, large earrings, even a stud of some kind in her nose, a thin skirt and blouse and a head covering…she was a gypsy. He'd seen enough of them before in his village to know the look of them and he traded with one named Clopin when he came around or had a need. Probably she'd been out here because she hadn't a home, but…

Blood. He smelled it before he could see it. There was a bruise, a collection of it gathered under the skin at her neck. She hadn't dropped dead of the cold or starvation. She'd been murdered.

The two heartbeats? Was the killer still in the area? Perhaps he was the one who had summoned him. He made a motion to stand up and look for the owner of the heartbeats but felt a pull back to the woman. There was something here…something about her that called to the powers within him. Magic. Gypsies often claimed to practice magic, but it was usually no more than parlor tricks, the same sleight of hand that his father had practiced or else simple potions or charms that they made. But the magic he sensed on her was no potion or charm. It was strong. It tasted familiar and yet he couldn't place it. It called to him.

He narrowed his focus, determined to find what it was on her that held such power. There was a bundle of some kind in her arms, covered with a white blanket of some kind. But that wasn't it. He sensed no magic from that blanket and curious as he was decided to investigate when he'd found…there…it was coming from her thigh.

"Ah…if you would excuse me, I don't believe you'll mind," he muttered to himself as he pulled the fabric of her skirt up her leg. He'd been about to promise the dead woman he wouldn't leave her in such a state when the most unexpected sight struck him across the face. Hidden around her upper thigh was a garter of some kind. It was tight so that it clung to the skin and fashioned into a sheath to hold a dagger, but that wasn't what surprised him. It was the fact that around her dagger, shoved hastily between skin and holster were wands. Fairy wands. Seven of them to be exact. The seven he'd seen in his vision? No. He'd seen six in his vision, not seven. On furter inspection there were two that had been missing in that vision, one that wasn't present at all. And of the two that he'd never seen before…one was different. Not just from the other mysterious wand, but from all the others. It was the one that called to him. There was darkness in it.

He had no witty reply or remark as he reached forward and plucked it free from her. Part of him expected to feel nothing, that he'd discover it was a fake, merely a wand-shaped object with inferior magic meant to be passed off as a fairy wand. But it wasn't. The power radiated through him just as it had the first time he'd held the dagger in his hand and the magic he felt matched that what he felt when he'd come into contact with the Blue Fairy. It was a genuine fairy wand.

"Now, where did you get that?"

"A stolen good, no doubt."

He didn't startle easily anymore, but he found himself quickly reaching out to brush the woman's skirt back over her legs and tuck the wand into his jacket before he turned and beheld a tall figure dressed in black before him. What an interesting contrast. He was dressed in black but nearly as pale as the snow around them. His gray hair looked white in the dark and the smell of sweat rolled off of him in waves. And his heart…his heart was racing.

"You killed her," he assumed gently.

"Is it murder to crush a bug beneath a boot?" he responded quickly.

Oh, his words spoke as though it was nothing, his face echoed that remark, and yet his heart suggested this was anything but minor. The man was terrified. He liked that. There was something about the man that made him despise him from the very beginning, but it was the smell that was on him at the moment that made him want to break his neck now most of all. It wasn't just sweat he smelled. He carried with him the smell of sex. And now that he was here, he could all too easily make out the scent of him on the woman. A bug, was she? What did that make him? A flea?

"Oh, no, no, no! Especially if the bug bites," he smiled, playing his game. "Though it is a bit odd to crush that bug after you've enjoyed the bite."

The man held his position, looking down his nose at him stoically as ever as his heart raced faster. Any more and it wouldn't be able to go much longer.

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you're implying."

"No?! Oh, come now! Surely your father once explained the concept of the birds and the bees to you. The snake in the grass? The eel in the cave?"

"Enough of this foolishness!" he spat quickly. "She's a gypsy! I'm the magistrate! I'd never dirty myself by joining to a lowly, heathen witch! And I didn't call you so that you could make such slanderous accusations!"

"Well, then why did you call me, governor?"

Immediately the man finally yielded, at least slightly. It was a small step back that he took, but a step nonetheless.

"She's well known to the people here, but only I saw her and the rest of her gypsy vermin for what they were. Liars, thieves, murderers, swindlers…"

"And your brand of evil is better than theirs?"

"My brand is justice."

"And this is justice?"

"I caught her with stolen goods; she ran, I pursued, justice was done. I have no guilt."

"But you're willing to make a deal with me so that they don't discover the body or what you've done to her."

"I never said-"

"But it's written all over your face, dearie! It's in the tap-tap-tap of your scared black heart! Why else would you call me here?"

The man stared. He never broke eye contact; it was the look of a man who wanted to deny the claims he'd given to him but couldn't. He'd never said the words, nor had he indicated what he really wanted, but he'd gotten the idea well enough.

"Worry not, magistrate. I'll remove the body for you, clothes, jewels, and all. I'll make it so it never happened, but you know…all magic comes with a price."

"What do you want?" he questioned calmly.

The wands. He wanted the wands, in fact, he would settle only for the wand in his jacket right now but since he had the opportunity to acquire the others…

He'd been about to demand them when a rustling behind him made him pause. The bundle in the woman's arms…it was moving. The second heartbeat…

"A baby?!" he questioned, moving to it and scooping whatever it was out of the woman's arms. Most certainly a baby. It made little noise but gurgling and fit in his arms as Baelfire had. And yet when he rose and got the blanket sorted to pull it over his face he nearly had to hold in his gasp.

A baby it was, but it was also hideously deformed. The nose was pressed in and up, there was a bulge over one of its eyes so that it could barely open it, the face was square and the jaw almost flat. And now that he knew to feel for it, he could feel the hunch in its back.

From close by he suddenly heard a gasp. "A monster!" the magistrate roared.

Were these the stolen goods the magistrate thought she'd had? He found it difficult to believe. There was snow everywhere, and yet the blanket was dry. The magistrate had tupped his mother and never noticed that the bundle she carried was a baby?! Even worse, judging by the nose they shared…his son.

"Yours perhaps?" he questioned holding it out for them.

"Mine?! Outrageous! The spawn of a demon! Take it away, send it back to hell where it belongs!"

And they called him evil? They dared to say he was wicked when such a man, uncursed by darkness, was out and walking around among them?!

He wanted the wand, but he already had it. He'd promised to remove the woman and all on her, and the way he suddenly saw it, that meant the wand was his. Why trade for something he already had when what he really wanted was to see this man suffer, see him struggle, and fear for his life as those he hunted. A little humility could do him good.

"Not so fast!" he commented quickly. "My price…is this!" he stated, holding the bundle out to him and dropping him into his arms.

"What? You want...it?!"

"No! I want you to care for 'it'! Raise it as your own!"

Because it was his own.

"What?! I'm to be saddled with this misshapen-"

"For the removal of his mother, that the world may never know what happened here tonight, you'll raise the child. You'll care for him. Think of it as redemption! Fatherhood is far from the worst price I could claim." The way he saw it, he was only forcing him to do what he should have done long ago.

In his stunned silence, he turned and lifted the woman off the ground gently. There was a lovely place next to his aunt's graves that he could bury the poor girl. As for the wand in his jacket, and those still attached to the gypsy girl, there was a lovely place in his castle that he could put them.

"Oh! And when I say 'care for the child' I do mean it. Wouldn't want a body to resurface years later and the truth to come out, now would we?!"

He didn't wait for an answer, just took the woman and his wands, and left the Judge with his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Rumple finds himself some wands. We know of course that he has wands in the show, we see a small collection of them when he gets to The Shop, but we also know that he has them in this world. Specifically, we know that he possesses one very important wand. At the moment he doesn't know what he's really got or what he's found but if you are a die-hard fan, you know what he's just fallen into possession of. It'll be a game-changer in the future and really a stroke of luck that he's found it. Gotta thank the Seer for those pushes.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, RolfB for your comments. I hope that you like this chapter. I hope you don't mind how I used the Hunckback of Notre Dame story to aid in getting the wands and I really hope you aren't disappointed that he didn't acquire them all by wheeling and dealing and trading. If I had added all that in I think it would have been just too much. Getting them in this way seemed appropriate to me. Peace and Happy Reading!


	70. A Significant Milestone

"Well…that went well. Just as you'd planned!"

"I don't know what you're talking about…" Regina sneered.

Sure, she didn't. Ever since that long-ago day that a near encounter with a stranger at a bar had nearly taken Regina and her future from him, he'd been sure to pay close attention to her activities, especially when the King was away. He was particularly vigilant now that the King had begun to leave Snow White behind, so she could learn to rule as Queen. All alone with Regina, the watchful eye was necessary. He'd thought that Regina had been frustrated before, when the King had simply left her alone, but now that Snow White stayed with her during these times, sat in the Great Hall by her side, watching her give orders to peasants and solving problems her husband never gave her credit for, his girl was starting to become a woman. Her anger and fury grew time after time. And on this time, as soon as the King had gone, he'd made note of one trip Regina had taken by magic, to meet a criminal in the woods. They called him "Dead Eye". And it just so happened, immediately after this meeting, that Dead Eye had invaded Regina's Kingdom. While her husband was away, she and Snow White had been left to deal with the problem.

He'd watched it all play out through crystal ball, cauldron, and mirror as Regina's attempt at making a power play, getting the Kingdom to see her as the rightful ruler and not just someone keeping the seat warm until her husband died, failed miserably. He'd known it would from the start, even without his powers of foresight.

He had to give her credit; her plan had been simple enough. Bring a terrible bandit into the Kingdom, create pressure Snow White couldn't handle, which would lead to failure and a very public humiliation for her step-daughter. At that point, she would sweep in, save the Kingdom somehow herself, and publicly comfort Snow White so the Kingdom would see her as their Queen and Snow White as nothing more than the next monarch who was still not ready to take the throne. No one would be any wiser as to the fact that it was their Queen that had brought the trouble in the first place. Except, of course, he who heard and saw everything.

"It was a good plan you came up with," he commented to a frustrated Regina who had just stormed into her bedroom after everything had failed. "It had decent goals, an untraceable source, and easy to remember lines. There was of course just one thing you neglected to account for?"

"And what was that?" she questioned rolling her eyes. "Please, enlighten me! Tell me where I went wrong!" The tone of her voice suggested that was anything but a begging plea, still, he did like to rub people's noses in their mistakes, especially those who called themselves his students.

"You failed to account for the determination of your step-daughter," he sneered. "Among other things…"

There were other mistakes that she'd made of course, but none bigger than that one. Snow White had been humiliated at the beginning and scared and frustrated as well, she'd wanted desperately to reach out to her father, but instead Regina had insisted she handle it. It was ironic, if she'd allowed her step-daughter to do what she'd wanted to in the first place and call on her Dear Papa for help, or instead just stepped in right then, her plan might actually have worked. Instead, she'd let Snow go, she'd let that teenage girl make friends with some boy or other who taught her archery, and after paying the robber not to kill the girl lest she become a martyr, the pair had faced off. Snow White had protected her people, and now they saw her in higher esteem than they had before. It practically had the people wishing Regina would die just so they could call her Queen.

Regina's lips turned red and hard as she made a face at him. "That girl! That miserable excuse for a Princess! She outwitted me!"

"Oh no!" he corrected quickly, getting to his feet. "One has to know who their true enemy is to outwit them. What she did was to overpower you with…love!" he stated in a high girlish voice putting his hands over his heart as if it could feel any more than Cora's could at the moment.

"Love!"

"Love is far more powerful than you realize, Regina. Capable of just as much and sometimes even much more than hate. There are a number of things one must account for in plans such as these. Timing, the temperament of the victim, and one must never fear backup plans. But most importantly of all, you must account for the relationship between the victim and the motivation you are using. Snow White, daughter of the King, loves her Kingdom as though they were her very children. If you had a mother that loved you, you'd know that parents will lay down their lives and sacrifice everything for their spawn. That was where you went wrong, which suggests, oddly enough that you don't know your own enemy. Strange considering she lives in the next tower."

"And now all the Kingdom looks up to her like she's perfect!" she suddenly burst out. "I'm the Queen; she's the Nothing, nothing but a princess! She's not as perfect as they all think she is! They just don't see it. They respect her more than me!"

"Of course they do! She's the treasure of the Kingdom! Who are you but the woman who replaced her mother?! You are here to keep the throne warm until she's ready to ascend. Jealousy is natural."

"What I feel for her it's not…it's not jealousy."

"Something more then…perhaps something a bit stronger…anger, maybe?"

"I hate her!" she shouted unexpectedly with rage that assured him she'd finally crossed into a place with Snow that he could work with. "Hate." She'd never used a word like that before, not in his presence. "Hate" was exactly what he'd wanted from the beginning, but this was only the start. Today Snow White, tomorrow the Kingdom, and from there...the realm.

"Hate is a very powerful emotion, dearie."

"But it's true! I hate her! I think I have nearly since the day I met her, ever since Daniel…"

"Ever since dear Daniel passed away."

"Well, it was her that did it! I told her not to tell my mother and she just…she told! Like it was nothing, like I was nothing!"

"To her…you were…"

"Are you here to cheer me up? If so then you're doing a lousy job of it!" she roared before storming out to her balcony. He smiled. No. He hadn't come to cheer her up. He hadn't come for a lesson or to find out what happened. He'd come because part of him was proud. Whether she knew it or not, she'd taken a step in the right direction for him today. Regina had plotted. For the first time, she'd wanted something and used her power and her wealth to try and take it for herself. The results had been disastrous, but the way she'd gone about it suggested something he was very pleased with. Her animosity and jealousy toward her step-daughter were growing. She was taking steps to ruin her. Steps that would one day lead toward a curse. He'd come to gloat today because he was proud of her. She'd grown a spine. And it was a spinney one indeed.

"So…what do you intend to do next, Regina?" he questioned, letting himself appear on the balcony before her so that he could rest his back on the castle wall.

Kill her. That answer was written plain as day on Regina's face. It was in the tightening of her fists, the way her knuckles shone white against the moonlight.

But there was an indent in her cheek like she was biting it and a muscle that twitched in her jaw that suggested she didn't want to open her mouth to say the words. That was good in a way. He didn't want the Queen to kill her step-daughter. He needed the hate that she had for her to exceed death, to want to make Snow White suffer, to make the entire realm suffer! But this was a one step at a time operation. First, he had to get her to the point that she was ready to kill her and then offer that more appealing option.

"Nothing," she finally huffed over her shoulder. "There's nothing I can do."

"Nothing?" he pressed.

"Haven't you been listening?!" she cried, turning toward him. "Haven't you been watching in your creepy little way?! I just tried! I tried to change things. I tried to get them to see her for what she is and turn the tables. It backfired!"

"Tried?!" he laughed. "That was a rather poor attempt if I do say so myself!"

"I tried," she snapped. "I'm sorry if we can't all come up with plans as grand as the Dark One!"

He bit back a laugh as she went back inside her room. He was getting to her. That was perfect. It was what he needed to get her to take this to a new level. She was ready to move forward with everything; with her magic, her plans, and her future, she just didn't know it yet. He needed her to know it.

"You failed," he stated appearing in front of her so that she stumbled when she came to an abrupt stop. "What is it that you want Regina…not what you intend, what is it that you want."

"I want…I want her to die for what she did to Daniel."

"Good goal. Short, sweet, easy to remember. It does of course lack a proper plan."

"So teach me! Teach me…how to kill her! Teach me how to finally take the revenge I should have taken long ago-a life for a life. If I can't earn their respect with her around, then I'll take it when they've no princess to fawn over! A spell, a potion, a curse…there must be something that you can give to me that will destroy her, that will end this…this pain…this suffering!"

"Well, of course, I do…but I don't really think you want to use it."

"And why wouldn't I?"

"Well, because then you'd be no better than you were the day your dear mother took a trip through the looking glass. Make no mistake of this, Regina, you've not been nearly as careful or discreet as you think you have. Their perfectly healthy and lovely Princess suddenly takes ill and dies or is found one day in her room with her life snuffed out…they'll look to you. Perhaps not right away, but they'll eventually make the proper conclusions."

"I can be miles away from here before they come from me! I can live on the run!"

"Perhaps but what then of your dear father. Oh!" he piqued as her face fell with sudden understanding and sadness. "Didn't think of that, did you? A rather half-baked plan indeed."

"Then it's true," she whimpered, slapping her hands against her thighs and falling into a seat. "There is truly nothing I can do. I'm trapped here in this miserable life until...until the day I die."

"Oh, now I didn't say that, did I?"

"But you just said-"

"What you need to do, Regina is think bigger and smarter. You need to plan wiser. You need to open your mind for a long game, not a short one. You failed because your attempt was only half thought through. You tried to control what you couldn't control and your plan backfired. You were so caught up on the way you saw things in your head you were unable to adjust to what was right before you."

"I don't even know what that means! What are you talking about? Why are you here if you can't help me?!"

"I'm beginning to ask myself the same question," he reflected. Regina was smart, but he was coming to find that in her anger, she could be one of two things. Abrupt and foolish. Or thoughtful and conniving. He needed her to be the second above all else. "I am good for more than the occasional magic lesson, dearie. It means that death is too good for her. Death is final; it's peaceful. Do you really think she deserves that after all she's cost you?"

"Without a doubt!" she growled.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his disappointment to himself. It was progress, but still a wrong answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you, but I really like this chapter. I really wanted to use what we saw in the 5x13 episode in some way, despite Rumple not having anything to do with it. In the end, I put it here, between the 3x03 chapters and the 4x14 chapters and I know I'm biased but I think it works as a good bridge for those two episodes. You go from seeing her as this really indecisive miserable person, to accepting that she wants to kill Snow White, to realizing that suffering is actually better than death. I was really pleased with how this came out and I hope you'll agree.
> 
> Big thank yous to RolfB for the comments you left me. Wow! I'm so happy that you like what happened in the last chapter and the twist on the hunchback story. Not the happiest of tales, I admit it, but it was a very convenient way to find those wands! I'm so happy you liked it! Only four more chapters in the Regina Section. See! I told you it would pick up after the resurrection stuff passed. And the next section, well...I can't wait to get there! Peace and Happy Reading!


	71. Teachable Moments

In the beginning, he'd always grown frustrated when Regina missed a lesson, but he'd learned since then. Now, when he found that Regina missed a lesson he wasn't angry, though he might pretend to be when he saw her again, instead he was excited. Regina rarely missed a lesson for anything related to her role as Queen, or for her "family" which meant that when she failed to show up, she was struggling. He used to feel as though his time was wasted, now he felt as though it was the pay off. Though she still hadn't said the magic words that he longed to hear, the words that would tell him that she was ready to move on and cast a curse, he could sense the feeling growing in her. He was getting into the Queen's head, getting into those dark places everyone kept hidden from the world and throwing them into the light where Regina grappled with them. And it was beautiful.

Besides, these days a missed lesson wasn't quite the tragedy it had been when she was a younger girl, just learning the craft. Then he'd needed to keep her in the magic, keep her close to it, practicing it all the time. Now, there was no question that she used magic in her daily life. Her husband knew it, her step-daughter knew it, half the Kingdom knew it. It allowed the rumors of what she could do to spread like wildfire. She was eager to learn, her fingers itching to use what she knew and allow the power growing inside of her to expand. Not getting her lessons…it was a bit like watching Jefferson go too long without using that hat of his or seeing his bedmate. Want became need. Need became desire. Desire became desperation. Desperation became addiction. And when it came to the temptation of magic, that was a subject he knew well.

So, he'd come up with a system to make it worse and teach her a lesson as well. When Regina missed a lesson to explore and contemplate the choices she was making, he returned the favor. She'd wasted his time, so he wasted hers, promising more lessons then "forgetting" to show up for them. When she tracked him down in his home and questioned him, a simple "busy" was all it took to show her how it felt as well as to raise her heart rate and make her just a tad bit more desperate for what she didn't have. She soon had put two and two together, and so now their lessons lived in a sort of…suspension. He sent word to her when they were to practice, made the lessons fewer and farther apart, and in return, he watched as the poor Queen began to fall apart herself.

The last couple of years had been the hardest. Ever since the King had gotten Snow White a horse for her birthday and the pair had become quite renowned across the land, jealousy continued to rage within his pupil. Regina seethed. He gloated. Privately, of course, but he was proud of his creation. And yet…he knew that he couldn't hold her back forever. She was making strides, coming ever closer to where she needed to be with her hate toward the Princess, but he was no closer to getting his hands on the curse today as he was seven years ago when all this had begun! This was a delicate operation. Every day Snow White grew older, into the woman he knew that James would one day fall for and marry, and who knew how soon after that they'd conceive and she'd give birth to the child that he needed to break the curse. He had to be cautious. If she grew too unstable and killed Snow White too early then it would throw everything into disarray. He needed her to have patience. To let her anger simmer for a while, and not boil over. An extremely difficult thing to do when the Princess kept winning riding tournaments and her father continued to dote upon her.

He was here today because of a vision that he'd seen in his head, one that he needed to understand. But when he arrived, Regina was another vision entirely. He tracked her to the stables, and she was in quite the state; one highly immature and unbecoming of her position. Ripping ribbons her step-daughter won off the wall one by one as she growled under her breath…it was a good thing Cora was so far away; otherwise this would have been tragic for her to witness. For him, it was just embarrassing.

"Oh!" he shuddered, making her turn to find him. "I love a touch of irony! The day you met Snow White, she nearly died on a horse. And yet today, she's the best rider in all the land."

"It's her precious horse that's won those medals, not her!" Regina spat back. He nearly rolled her eyes. Sure it was. And if she truly believed that, then she wouldn't be in here tearing them down one right after another.

"Still, good fortune does tend to, uh, fall in her lap, does it not?"

"And you promised to teach me magic so I can end her charmed life!" she roared.

"Well, I'm teaching you, dearie," he insisted, taking his seat again. And he stood by that truth. He was teaching her how to destroy her step-daughter just not quite in the way she wanted. Not that it mattered, if the book he'd seen her holding, the one she was hiding behind her back, meant anything. The vision he'd had before arriving here flashed before his eyes, and he fought back a smile. Perhaps there was a connection after all. "Though you sound a bit impatient. Sneaking out here to read...what is it?"

Using his magic, he grabbed the book in his own hands and looked it over, seeing a familiar emblem he hadn't seen in years. And for good reason. He'd helped give the Dragon the cure to keep her human and then left all thoughts of Maleficent behind. But this afternoon, he'd had a vision, or a series of visions that brought her back to his attention.

_Maleficent sulking around the castle he'd told her to go to. Regina talking with her. Princess Aurora, Stefan's daughter, drifting into a deep sleep with Maleficent beside her. A dragon alive once more, and Regina, finally mastering what she hadn't before-the creation of a fireball._

It was for that last vision he'd seen that he wanted to understand the vision, to do what he had to in order to make it come true. But he hadn't understood how Regina connected to the rest of it…not until he saw this book in her hands. But still, why would Regina have it?

"Maleficent's spell book?!"

The girl stood before him, looking more guilty than ever and shrugged. "I…found it in my mother's things," she explained, wobbling on her tip-toes as if she were a child guilty of going through her mother's things when she was, in fact, an adult queen going through items that had been abandoned. Suddenly Regina smiled and leaned closer a look of excitement on her face. "She can turn into-"

"A fire-breathing dragon," he provided for her. "Yes, yes, yes. A bit showy if you ask me." Not that she was doing it much anymore.

"I'm just tired of watching Snow grow up!" she screamed as he set the book aside. "I am tired of her getting everything, and I...I want to finally have my revenge!"

He had to laugh at that…they'd had this conversation before, the night that she'd attempted to destroy Snow White's reputation. And if that was what she considered revenge, then her ideas were as stale as this conversation.

"You don't even know what revenge looks like, dearie."

"You're right. All I know are what your lessons look like…and they're taking me nowhere."

Childish insults. Was that how this was going to be? What she was reduced to? Maybe she needed to be taught a different lesson. Maybe she needed a different teacher. Maybe she needed to see how far her own heroes could fall. "Before you start throwing stones, you might want to look in the mirror! And I'm not speaking metaphorically," he commented, pointing to the small mirror that hung on the wall of the stable.

Regina let out a great heaving sigh that told him what he'd come up with was worth a try. So as she turned to look, he waved his hand out over the mirror, and they both watched as it became the image of a forest he was familiar with but doubted Regina had ever seen since her husband wasn't one to take her on trips to distant lands.

"What is this place?" she questioned.

He hadn't seen it in a good long while himself, and it didn't look any better than the last time he had. "It's a wasteland," he answered. "But years ago, it was a lush forest till Maleficent burned it down. Her dragon flame burned so hot that there's one tree still on fire half a lifetime later."

Regina smiled and turned to face him. "Do you know how she did it?"

"With a powerful magic that she cultivated with that most precious commodity...time. If you ignore the gift of time and rush into things, you...will never be ready," he insisted, placing a finger under her chin and inspecting her gaze. She wasn't ready now. She could try to cast the curse, but it would fail, there wasn't nearly enough hate in her heart yet. Or rejection or failure, or power. And besides all that…the Swan hadn't been born yet, nor had Prince Charming and Snow White fallen madly in love in order to conceive her. This was not the time. If nothing else, perhaps Maleficent was a far better teacher for that lesson than he was. His vision suggested that she should go to her, and his vision changed nothing of the future that he saw. It wasn't as though they were on the clock…what harm could a bit of space do?

"Or maybe this is all just excuses, and you're just not a skilled enough teacher to show me!"

"You think she's gonna help you?"

"I think I'm tired of waiting!"

"And that is exactly your problem!" he roared back at her. They'd see how this turned out soon enough. "Good luck with Maleficent." With a snap of his fingers, Regina vanished from his sight, out to the wasteland, to a place where a slumbering dragon still dwelt in a haunted castle-The Forbidden Forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last major episode that we have to cover in the Regina Section, then there is one closing chapter, but in no time at all we'll be on to something new! It's not that the Regina Section is bad, it's just that when you lay it all out like this you really see how much back and forth she had over those years. And it's not that I think that's out of character or bad, it just starts to feel a bit overused eventually. I can't wait for the next section to really mix it up!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for the comments you left on the previous chapter! This is not really a Jefferson Chapter though the careful observer will note that we once again advanced his story in this chapter, sort of explaining his absence. Last we heard he was just sort of courting Priscilla, in this chapter Rumple makes it clear they are in a relationship of sorts. Where are they going from there? Well, you know what they say, first comes love then comes... Peace and Happy Reading!


	72. A Prime Example

Regina had once told him that his watching was creepy. He could understand that point of view, but he much preferred to think of it as keeping a close eye on his most prized investment. He never left anything to chance, not since becoming the Dark One, and he certainly wasn't about to start where Regina, his curse, and his son were concerned.

At first, he was confused, and angry at the Seer for giving him such a complicated and unnerving gift. The images he saw in his head related to one another, but he couldn't understand the point or the purpose of it. Not as Regina found Maleficent's castle, not as he could barely make out the pair of them talking to one another in her home for Maleficent had apparently been smart enough to cast the same curses on her mirrors that Cora had. No, it wasn't until Regina was stopped on the road and exchanged information with an individual about Aurora's wedding and light sparked behind Regina's eyes and realized what the Seer had been suggesting to him.

He could tell Regina all he liked that it was better to wait, to bide her time, to cultivate her powers and then strike Snow White not against her life but against her heart…but some lessons were better off learned in person and by example. Maleficent had grown tired of life, she hadn't transformed for a number of years thanks to the concoction he'd given her, she'd given up on getting back at King Stefan. But the image in his mind of Princess Aurora falling helplessly into a sleeping curse just before her wedding suddenly sparked recognition in him and he knew. Regina might not have foresight, but she was seeing the same thing in her mind as he was. She was seeing the potential of making Stefan suffer by claiming something important to him. She was going to try and get Maleficent back in action. If Maleficent could claim her happiness after all this time, then so could she.

So…could she?

He concentrated, focused on the images he'd seen before in his head. Concentrating didn't always work, but he was pleased to find that this time it did. More images came. People he hadn't thought of in years filled his mind as he watched the vision play out.

_There was what he'd seen before, Maleficent standing before Aurora. She forced the princess to prick her finger on a spindle and fall into a deep sleep. There was Aurora's prince, Philip, the Seer whispered in his head, Maleficent stood before him, and he watched as his shape changed and shifted into a Yaoguai before she cast him out, and he reappeared in a faraway land. Truly separated from the one person who could break his daughter's curse. She'd learned after what happened last time. And then he saw Stefan, face red and contorted, bending over the sleeping form of his daughter while the world around him burned, and the cackle of a dragon echoed in his own mind._

_And suddenly the picture changed again. Suddenly it was no longer Maleficent he heard or King Stefan he saw. It was Snow White and Prince James huddled together on the floor of some room, both were older, looking worse for wear. He was bleeding, unconscious it seemed, as sweat glistened over her brow. The room around them was in chaos, filled with smoke and debris. It circled around the pair as Snow White looked on in horror._

_"Where are we going?" he heard her ask._

_Then, before them, he saw Regina, a much older, far more sinister version of the Queen he knew, with a crazed smile on her face as she beheld her good work. "Someplace horrible," she cackled, that same cackle that Maleficent had had moments ago._

He opened his eyes and smiled. Oh, this could be a good lesson.

But he knew that it was bound to take more than Regina to get the Dragon free from her decade long stupor. In order to succeed he needed Maleficent to succeed and that made this firmly his problem as well. When he'd last encountered her she'd been no more than a lovesick woman, but he knew that before that she'd been clever, cunning, and very talented. He'd taken her ability to transform in giving her the secret to the curse, but now, if Regina could distract her long enough to let it, he knew that rage would have simmered and it would allow her to become what she once was only worse…but with little more persuasion than Regina could provide. Persuasion…he could provide a little bit more than persuasion. He could provide motivation.

He summoned Theseus to him in an instant. It had been a while since he last saw his shapeshifting ally, normally he would prefer to trust Jefferson with a task such as this, but with him spending more and more time with that girl he was bedding, he couldn't waste time finding him. Not to mention he didn't particularly care to see him in whatever state he'd find him. The dove, on the other hand, would be perfect for this job. Theseus seemed at once both surprised and board that he'd been called. Half dressed, he obviously hadn't expected to be summoned and brought about by magic as he had in that moment. But the look in his eyes suggested that even he knew it had been so long it was only a matter of time.

"Fly off to the Realm of King Stefan. I need you to deliver a message."

"King Stefan?" he questioned. "But…I'm already there! Or at least I was. His daughter is about to be married, Mary and I intend to be there."

Well, imagine that. "Which is exactly why you must return!" he ordered. "Inform his royal highness that Maleficent is back and a credible threat to his daughter and their wedding. Inform him that if he wants to protect his daughter, he'll take the dragon and the young girl with her hostage, or else all hope is lost."

"But-"

He didn't wait to hear the dove's question, just sent him back with only the information he'd given him. Sometimes, less could be more, especially when it came to carrying messages like the one he had now. He rather liked where his little bird friend was at the moment, and he had no intention of jeopardizing that. What he planned to do from here was simply to sit back, relax, and watch what played out before him. And every now and then, he closed his eyes and looked back on that picture he'd been given, the gift in his head of Regina before Snow and her prince promising nothing but horror in an unknown world where one day, he knew precisely what he'd find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, it's filler, but I couldn't find a way around it. I needed a way to get from the beginning of the episode to the end and I really doubted that after sending Regina to Maleficent Rumple would just go to work spinning on the spinning wheel. I figured he'd watch. And to me it just seemed to perfect that Stefan up and receives a random threat one day before the wedding and goes to see Maleficent. I do love the idea of putting Rumple more in the center of the action even if it's not directly. Plus, it's been a while since we've seen Theseus. Friendly reminder that he's still around and will actually serve a very important role in the next section.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your continued comments. Sorry to throw a random filler chapter at you, but I did promise they'd be few and far between. The last chapters in this section are certainly not fillers. Peace and Happy Reading!


	73. The Evil Queen Rises

When all was said and done, Regina could be a downright barrel of surprises. The second he'd sent Theseus along, he'd vowed to let Regina play out her game and then let her come to him. He expected an adolescent response to it all. No matter the outcome, he expected her to be angry about stripping away her transportation abilities and stranding her with Maleficent. Frankly, he expected her to be so mad that he wouldn't hear from her for some time. After the dragon returned, he expected she'd hang around Maleficent for a while, trying to get her to act as teacher and guide and only return to him when Maleficent proved to be too interested in her own future to worry about Regina's. However, he was shocked to find, later that night, a summoning tug at his conscious and pull him back to Regina.

They were in the stables again. When he found her, she was in a stall kneeling beside Snow White's prized horse. The beast lay on the ground and Regina was stroking its cheek tenderly. Her back was to him, but she knew that he was there, she'd summoned him, of course, she knew! But her anger was checked. Her actions were calm and collected. This was a glimpse at Regina he hadn't expected to see for years down the road. Was this a chance encounter, he wondered, or had Maleficent done a job he hadn't expected. Perhaps seeing the sleeping curse dosed dragon had done her some good.

Behind her, he stood up on the wooden stall to better see into it. The wood creaked beneath his feet, but she didn't flinch.

"You took my ability to transport," she commented with barely a glance at him.

Oh, he shivered at those words. There was anger in her voice, but it wasn't hot and tempered as she'd been before, like a child. This anger was contained. It was cool and cold. It didn't need volume to fill the space between them, just insinuation. It was the kind of anger he was always envious of, for it could lead to truly beautiful action. It was the kind of anger that if left to simmer, could become a boil with only a single action. It was the kind of anger he'd been waiting for her to possess—the anger of a woman, not a girl.

"Only for a short period of time. That spell will wear off in a day or so…how did you get here so soon?" he questioned, looking down at her.

"On the back of a dragon. How else?"

He smiled. "You mean Maleficent?"

That was a lie. Though he knew the Dragon was back as Theseus had returned to tell him that his message was delivered and the wedding never happened because Maleficent was successful, he also knew that in her dragon form, that beast couldn't tell the difference between friend and foe. She wasn't likely to be offering rides at least none that were survivable. But…if she wanted to play this little game, to keep him in the dark, then that was fine. So long as all was as he expected.

"I was certain she'd lost that power."

"Well…it's more like forgotten...until I helped her remember who she was."

He fought back a smile and instead shook his head, happy to play an idiot. After all, if she was to become what he wanted her to, one day, he might find her opposite him, not as a student but as an enemy. He had to remember not to get too close, no matter how tempting she was at times.

"I thought it was you that was seeking a teacher, not the other way around?"

"I was…" she stated, rising her gaze off the horse just in time to meet his own before getting to her feet. "But then I realized...I already had a teacher!" she smiled at him. "One who was doing quite well with me."

"Glad to hear it," he muttered in triumph before glancing down at the animal she'd been stroking, who hadn't moved since she'd risen. That was not typical horse behavior and in the air…he smelled a sleeping curse. Perhaps she had learned a thing or two on her journey. "I can see you're doing quite well, too. And why do I get the feeling that that pony's not just taking a nap?"

"Well, of course, he is..." she commented looking over at the beast before pulling something long and sharp from her pocket. It was a needle to a spinning wheel, an object he was familiar with for he had given it to Maleficent in the first place. "For another 100 years or so." He laughed as Regina stepped forward and pushed open the door he was standing upon, all so she could stand back and admire her work. "Maleficent helped me see death is too good for Snow White. I need to take away what she loves."

Finally…something they could agree on. Finally, she'd arrived at the place that he needed her to be in most. Now all he had to do was develop it further.

"A lesson I've been trying to teach," he whispered in her ear before stepping off the door.

"Well...I'm finally ready to learn," Regina stated, a spark in her eye for all the right reasons. "No matter how long it takes, I can do it. I can get my revenge. I can get my happiness! And how do you intend to do that, praytell? Still planning on killing the girl?"

"Oh, no!" she smiled. "No…death would be far too simple for her. I want to make her suffer," she stated calmly with her eyes closed as if she was dreaming of a day in paradise. "I want for her to feel the pain that she made me feel, the pain that I still feel every day of my life. All because she has everything she's ever wanted, and I have nothing I've ever wanted."

"Sounds to me like you just need something new to want."

"This. I want this. I want to make her squirm. When I'm don't with her, I want her to beg for death. But, even I know, that's going to take a delicate touch. They call you a villain, can you teach me? Can you show me how to do this right? How to end Snow White's happiness, end her life the way she ended mine?"

He felt his grin stretch ear to ear. "Indeed, I can. Trust me, in due time, I'll grant to you the perfect magic you need to get yourself out of this mess."

He just hoped he had the right magic so that he could get himself out of that mess when the time came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not quite to the end of the Regina section yet. Remember I tacked a chapter on to the end because Regina is not quite as ruthless as I'd like her to be yet. There is still something she has to do for that. She needs to get her hands dirty before her transformation can be complete. The next chapter isn't one that was seen, but we've certainly heard a lot about it and even watched it in some sense.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I know this has been a long section (and the longest is yet to come but for Rumbellers it'll be a lot easier), I know it's sort of been choppy at times, but I really appreciate your willingness to stay with me in this endeavor. I hope that I've done it justice and made you proud. I hope even the simple things, like the end of this conversation, have kept in line with the story and been exactly what you were hoping for! Peace and Happy Reading!


	74. The New Regina

The King was dead.

Leopold, the King of the Kingdom, father of Snow White, husband to Regina was dead.

He'd never seen it in his visions, but he couldn't say he was entirely surprised by it either. In truth, the only thing that really surprised him was that Regina had taken as long as she had. A year ago was the first time he'd had a suspicion that the King's days might be numbered. It had been Regina's birthday. They hadn't had a lesson planned for that day, but they rarely did after Regina's incident with Maleficent. To plan a lesson was to suggest a relationship that didn't exist anymore. They'd moved on from being teacher and student after she'd mastered fire. Now she saw him as something of a mentor, only calling on him when there was something specific she wanted him to teach her. Otherwise, she'd struck up a friendship with Maleficent after the incident in her Kingdom and the two women preferred to teach each other magic. They shared secrets, trades spells, Regina had even adopted the habit of using birds to carry messages for her; though she used black birds instead of ravens. These developments were fine with him all things considered. Regina wanted to be like him. She wanted to possess power like his…maybe even greater. With ambition like hers it would have been too dangerous to continue to teach her as he had before. Especially when he admitted that his own relationship to her had grown a bit muddled over the years.

He saw her as…well…he wasn't quite sure there was a word for it, but he knew creating some space was good. She was his creation, someone who depended on him and trusted him, but he was always cautious given her nature. And he felt something for her, felt some kind of emotion that he couldn't put his finger on. When she was happy and excited, he felt a bit of her joy himself. When she accomplished something they'd been working at, or she behaved in the way he wanted her to, he felt proud. When she dressed in black and there was a fire in her eyes that reminded him of Cora, he felt nearly as playful as he once had with her mother. But when she felt sad, so sad clouds rolled over the sky and thunder could be heard in the distance…he didn't know what he felt then, only that sometimes he had a wish, that he could share with her some of the images the Seer had left in his mind so she could hold onto hope for herself.

He'd felt that a bit that night a year ago. She'd summoned him to her, not exactly an oddity for her. But the room had been so heavy that night; heavy and dark. She'd lit not a single candle, nor did she stand in his presence or meet his gaze. She'd called him from where she was perched at her vanity, looking down at something small in her hands. He'd said nothing as he approached her and observed that it was a piece of jewelry. A broach. Laid with emeralds that reminded him of Zelena if only for their color. Unaware of his arrival, Regina traced them with her thumbs as she looked at it, studied it as though it was precious, but if it was, then why was he here? Why was she so miserable she hadn't even lit the candles in her room?

"A beautiful piece," he commented softly, as he came to stand behind her.

The nod Regina gave was barely noticeable. "It is beautiful," she finally responded. "A gift from…my beloved husband for my twenty-fifth birthday. I would have been speechless if this was the first time I'd seen it."

"The first time…" he'd prodded.

Regina had sighed and stood up to face him with the broach still in hand, but now her eyes were on him. "I've seen this before. My mother brought me to a party here once; it was the first time I met the King and Queen Eva. I was so star-struck that I remember nearly every detail about them both. Including…this broach. The Queen was wearing it that night."

"Ah…it belonged to his first wife then."

"And now he's just given it to me," Regina sneered, looking down at it again. "A 'special' gift for my 'special' day." With a violent jerk she threw the broach across the room where he heard it hit the floor and slide across the perfect tile. He didn't turn to watch it, but he felt certain by the sound it made it was probably chipped.

 _Chipped_ …there was something important about that…or so said the Seer.

"Do you know what he gave Snow White when she turned fifteen?" Regina questioned, taking a step closer. Impressive. He didn't move from his place, he wasn't afraid of Regina, but her motions, the way her nostrils flared and she claimed space for herself in a gentle yet threatening way, it would scare a lesser person. It would intimidate them, without question. If he wasn't so set in playing his part, he would have smiled at how far she'd come. Instead, he kept a mask firmly in place, refusing to let her see the pride he felt swell in his chest at her progression, that she was well on her way to becoming the villain he needed.

"He got her that pony she won so many tournaments on before I put it down. It was a small little thing any girl would have loved then, but when he took her to it, he'd had it trained to bow before her."

"Doesn't quite seem fair," he'd added, throwing more fuel on the fire. "She gets something original and thought out…"

"And I get a hand-me down…" she finished for him on a growl. She looked away, off in the direction she'd tossed that broach and took a few heavy breaths. He stayed focused. He didn't look away from her though he wondered if she could see the thing gleaming in the moonlight.

"I'll never be good enough for him, will I?" she stated.

The moon caught her pale skin, and he saw tears in her eyes, true tears of hurt like he hadn't seen in her before. He'd always believed that it was Cora who had done the most for him, but now that he was looking at her, he had the thought that maybe he'd gotten it wrong. Cora had done a number on her, it was true, but perhaps it was Leopold's lack of interest in his wife that had doomed her and helped him along most of all.

"Not as long as the spawn of his first wife still walks the earth happy as a lark," he replied.

And that was it. Regina had walked out of the room, and he knew, in that moment, that the King's death was imminent. That was the day that she'd stopped believing that maybe everything would work out, that the King or any man could replace Daniel and she might have a happy future someday. It was the day she accepted that she was truly alone. And now, a year later, the King's coffin was draped in black, and she was finally a widow.

And now he stood in the castle in the dead of night, just as he had when Eva had died. And for good reason. He was here to retrieve something once more. The second he'd heard the King had died so soon after his birthday when he'd appeared to be in good health, he'd suspected Regina. He'd been busy the last few days as the Apprentice had been on the move, and he'd been keeping a close eye on him. That meant he hadn't been watching Regina. But all he had to do was seize his crystal ball and demand to see Regina's movements before the King's death, and there it was.

The King had freed a genie he'd found on the shore just before his birthday and brought him into the castle. Regina had finally seen an opportunity. He watched as she tricked him into falling in love with her, as she sent her father to retrieve a snake from the genie's home in Agrabah, then gave it to the genie. She'd faked wanting to use it on herself and the genie had taken it and instead used it to kill the King. Clever girl. She'd killed the King. And she'd framed the genie for it perfectly. The guards were on the search for the genie, but they never would find him, because while she had crafted a plan that was almost worthy of him, she hadn't considered the true consequences of how she'd used her magical boy toy. Her feelings had been a fraud. His feelings had not. Without sound it was difficult to tell how it had happened exactly, but after a brief argument, he'd been bound to live in her mirror, something he only learned when he tried to look in on Regina through it and found he couldn't.

So it wasn't a perfect execution of a plan, but it was highly impressive. And he was proud. Proud…and now the proud owner of a very rare and valuable piece of magic.

Before him, unattended in a separate room of the castle, the genie's empty lamp sat. It was empty, of course, the genie was now trapped within Regina's mirror, a feat of magic he wanted desperately to observe for himself. But just because the lamp no longer held a genie didn't mean it had lost all its magic. What was he planning to do with it? He hadn't quite determined that yet, he'd been too busy since all this happened to consider it. However, that didn't change the fact that he wanted it. At the very least, it was a trophy on its own, a remnant that would forever remind him of the moment Regina had finally broken her chains.

Snow White was an orphan. And broken. Just the way Regina wanted her.

His work with Regina was nearly done. But there was still more to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really significant for a number of reasons. We ended the Preparation Section with "The Queen was dead" and we end Regina's section with "The King was dead". This was the dirtying of hands that I was talking about in regards to making Regina's transformation complete. From the beginning, The King was never a target for Regina. No, she's never liked him very much and they've never had a "good" relationship. But until this chapter, he's never really been a threat to Regina. Here we have the first time Regina makes a kill. But it's why she kills that is really telling. This is where her hatred for Snow White begins to spill out to others so that she's willing to kill those who support Snow, or favor Snow, over Regina. I felt like this was a really good place to leave the Regina section because it feels now like Rumple is that clockmaker we talked about before. He's wound her up, now she's more or less ready to function on her own with minimal involvement. For that reason, we'll see a lot less of her in the next section.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Simple as it may be I hope you like this chapter and the conclusion it brings to the Regina Section. We did hear that story about the broach in the series and it presented such a wonderful opportunity that I just had to use it. I hope you'll like how it turned out. Up next, we're getting into a new section. Just...do me a favor, don't judge the new section by the first chapter, or the second...or the section title. Just trust me on this. It'll all make sense once you've read it, but trust me when I say this next section is awesome, maybe my favorite, but it starts off sort of sad so just don't judge the entire section for what you'll read next. Or for its title. Or for the chapter after the first. Alright, that's enough of that, wave good-bye to Regina and her section. Let me know what you thought of this chapter and this section, I'm looking forward to your thoughts before we move on! Peace and Happy Reading!


	75. The Curse of Love

The medallion was lighter than he thought it would be. Whenever he'd seen it in pictures, thick gold attached to a simple chain, he'd always assumed it would be heavy. Considering what it did, what it summoned, it should have been heavy. The fact that it was so light in his hand seemed too ironic to fathom.

The only alternative he could come up with was that it was a fake, but he could feel that it wasn't. The symbol on the front of it, the very one that could all too easily be burned into its victim's flesh, was identical to the one he'd read about in books. Besides, the magic he felt rolling off of it couldn't lie. This was exactly what he'd been looking for. It was quite possibly the most dangerous thing in his workshop at the moment…besides himself, of course.

As he set it in the box that he had for it he cast his gaze quickly up to Jefferson on the other side of the table.

"You didn't touch it," he presumed.

"Never with my bare skin," he answered as he watched him put it away. "I've been working with you long enough that when you say not to do something, I trust it."

"Excellent. And it was right where you thought it would be?"

"Not exactly," he sighed, taking a seat on one of his stools and removing his hat. "It had been moved. It was still in London just…"

"Just?" he pressed as Jefferson raised his hand to rub the back of his neck as if he was tired. His associate was aging it seemed, growing tired, settling down. He'd married a few years ago and though he still thought it an awful binding kind of deal, he could see in some ways how she'd helped him to find some stability. No longer was he the boy with a smart mouth that once flit about from place to place. He was so stable now sometimes it hurt to watch him.

"It wasn't in the museum, it was in a mansion, guarded by a woman…who could control her guard dogs with her breath."

The ability to control animals by breathing on them…in a realm that wasn't supposed to know about magic.

"That's interesting," he muttered, turning away to safely secure the box.

"Yeah, that realm has magic, I mean…obviously it has magic! I can get there! But I've never met someone before who was aware of it and could use it. Not that it caused a problem, I've dealt with worse than guard dogs and halitosis before, it just caught me unaware. Suppose I should have figured. The woman calls herself Cruella DeVil."

"Interesting choice of names," he nodded as he pulled out a satchel already filled with gold coins and magically added seven more to it before offering it to Jefferson.

"For your troubles…"

"Thanks," he muttered, taking it and storing it in his pocket. He was halfway back to his spinning wheel when he realized that though he was paid, he wasn't moving. Five years ago, that wouldn't have been an odd thing for Jefferson to stay around and bother him, these days, however, he never seemed to be able to get out and back to his wife fast enough. The days of Jefferson making himself comfortable in his castle were finally over. The castle was quiet these days. Sometimes too quiet. But he'd never admit that out loud.

"Shouldn't you be heading home to your wife?" he questioned as he took his seat at the wheel.

"Yeah, I want to talk to you first."

"Well, I hope it's to ask for more work because if you're searching for marital advice, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong Dark One."

"No, I wouldn't bother with that," he chuckled. "And actually it's sort of the opposite. I've…we-Pricilla and I-we've decided to retire."

The room was so quiet for a heartbeat it felt as though the air had been suddenly sucked out of the windows. He felt numb and unsure about the words he'd just heard. He didn't believe it. Certainly he'd heard wrong…

He turned back to Jefferson. "Retire?"

"Oh! It's what this other realm I've been to calls it when you stop doing the work you've been doing."

So, he had heard correctly. He just still couldn't believe it. The very idea went against everything he'd ever believed Jefferson to be! But Jefferson and Pricilla together…they'd made this decision? To put so much magical talent aside?! And for what? A job at a tannery? Wood carving? Hat making?

"Yes, it's what we call it when we decide to close our eyes each night and surrender logical thought and reason to illogical and emotional dreams!"

Jefferson shrugged. "That too."

This was…an odd reaction he was having. He didn't care about Jefferson. Not at all, they were business partners, they had been since he'd met him and employed him! The boy had been nothing but a bother all this time, constantly running his mouth, disappearing and reappearing at will, making himself at home when he wasn't welcome! He shouldn't care about news like this. And he couldn't figure out why he felt like his heart was in a vise at the news.

"So, you're 'retiring'," he muttered, turning his back on him and beginning to turn the wheel. His fingers felt cold. He didn't like it.

"To be with Priscilla, yes," he confirmed. To be with Priscilla…he'd had concerns when he had first met the girl and began to see her regularly. He'd tried to warn him when they started sleeping together and again when he announced they were going to marry about the dangers of women and what they could do to men. He'd pictured a lot of outcomes for Jefferson when that girl came into the picture. This was never one of them.

"Why so shocked, old friend?!" Jefferson asked. "I figured you of all people would have seen this coming."

And yet he hadn't.

"We're not friends," he responded quietly.

"What do you call what we've been doing all these years?"

"It's a business arrangement," he insisted. "Nothing more."

"You seem awfully depressed for a simple business arrangement."

"Well, it's been a very profitable arrangement," he shot back quickly. That must have been it. That was why he was feeling what he was feeling. When he looked back on all the things Jefferson had done for him, all the things that he'd retrieved over the years, the way he'd reached into places that were unreachable to get valuable items and information…losing that was going to be a significant loss. Thank goodness he'd had the foresight to be sure the old boy owed him favors. Yes, that was right. Jefferson owed him! They had more than one outstanding deal for a favor. Perhaps this wasn't the last he'd see of him! Suddenly he was feeling better already.

"I didn't expect this reaction from you," Jefferson muttered across the room. "I thought you'd be happy for me?"

He snorted as he rose from his wheel to make himself busy with the vials of potion lying around. "Happy? Happy you are throwing your life away? For a girl? Well, now you don't know me at all!"

"Not just any girl, for her!" he insisted, rising to his feet and standing on the other side of the table. "We're in love, try to understand that."

"Love," he growled. "You lack the decades, the centuries of 'love' I've seen. Love is a plague, a curse."

"A curse?" Jefferson chuckled. "You really believe that?"

"And more. Love is a powerful curse, indeed. I've seen love turn the smart into stupid. It's turned the noblest of men into cowards, the richest into paupers, the strongest into weaklings, the adventurous into the ordinary, and now I've seen it turn the wise into a fool."

"I didn't know you considered me wise," he answered in his joking tone. He only looked up at him from under his eyelashes, unsmiling. There was nothing funny about this situation.

"Well, haven't you been listening…not anymore! Not so long as you pursue this girl."

"My wife?"

"Whatever," he shrugged, turning back to fiddle with the vials of liquid before him, even if there was no point to it. Funny how any other time he could think of half a million things he had to do and yet in this moment he couldn't come up with a single thing.

"It's not only that," Jefferson added with a sudden tone to his voice he'd never heard him use before. Nervousness. He was nervous! Jefferson hadn't even been nervous the first time they'd met, and everyone was nervous when they first met him. What was going on? He hated being the last to know. "We got married, and now it's more than just her and even us! Pricilla she's…we're…"

His stomach flipped over as he looked back up and recognized the look in his eyes and combined with his stuttering and nerves, the gaze cast to the ground and hands shoved into pockets…

"Pregnant," he finished for him.

Jefferson sighed, picked his head up, and nodded as a twinge of a smile flicked over his face. "I'm going to be a father." Suddenly he was distant, farther away than perhaps he'd ever been while standing in the same room, nervous and hopeful, and terribly scared. Yes, parenthood could do that to a person. Not that Jefferson was aware he knew that. Not that he needed to know now…

"Congratulations," he muttered before picking up a few of his vials and moving to return them to the cabinet just because he could.

"Well, that was believable…" Jefferson added. "Look, this isn't something I planned on. Priscilla is like me. I never expected to find anyone like me let alone someone like her. I'm not thrilled to be hanging up the hat, but she's right. We need to be careful and be here, not just for each other, but for our son now as well."

"They say a fool is made every day…"

"What?!"

He bit his tongue.

He didn't care. Jefferson's decision didn't bother him one bit. Their association over the years had been profitable, that was all. If he wanted to trade in such a great gift as magic for his family instead of risking all as he had years ago, that was his choice, and it didn't bother him one bit.

The only bit that did bother him, or rather the Seer, was an incorrect assumption he'd made.

"Daughter," he stated, turning back to him. "It'll be a girl, not a boy…congratulations."

He said the words, even managed to put a bit of feeling into them when he saw Jefferson's face light up, there might have even been a tear in his eye. But he didn't stop to watch his expression, just went back to his wheel, his ever faithful, always present companion, and began to spin again. Jefferson could show himself out.

"Listen…I'm gonna go, but…I cleaned my grandfather's cabin out, finally! There were a few of his knick knacks for getting place to place that he left behind. Pricilla doesn't want them in the house with a baby, so…for you! You can owe me a favor for them. I put instructions and notes on each one telling you where it takes you and how to work it, so you can look over them later."

And he would look at them…later. Though his fingers itched to get up and see what wonderful delights had just come into his possession, he wouldn't, not while Jefferson was still here.

"I'll send you word when the baby is born. If you need me, you'll know where to find me…"

His words were pushy and expectant. He was waiting for him to respond to say good-bye, anything! But he couldn't bring himself to. He just pushed on the wheel and twirled his wrist changing ordinary wool into ordinary thread. He let his mind calm and go blank, he let his emotions slip away and pictured Bae in his mind once more until Jefferson gave up, and finally left.

Love. It was hard for him to believe that two people could ever want to be truly together for an eternity. He'd seen couples out and about, watched the women hang on the men and the men dote upon the women with sloppy seasick smiles. He'd been one of those stupid wretches once. From where he stood now, there was nothing less appealing than love. And the rich who spent after day in bed engaging in dalliances as their servants did their work for them as if there was nothing better to do than raise the heart rate and exchange bodily fluids…it was ridiculous. A dreadful waste of time that he'd never expected Jefferson, in all his youthful energy, to fall prey to. Perhaps that was the reason he almost enjoyed helping Regina so much, always pushing her toward her goal. She didn't seem to understand love either. It wasn't a surprise, not since it was denied to her for so long by the woman who had denied him the same joy Jefferson now knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Frozen Section! Now, if you were not a fan of the Frozen arc, take a deep breath. I promise I didn't call it "The Frozen Section" because it is all Frozen all the time. Truth be told, the only other thing I could think to call this section was both redundant and a bit too spoilery. So I dubbed it "the Frozen Section" because I couldn't come up with anything better. But rest assured, it's not going to be Frozen all the time. And, better yet, just trust me on this one...I'm not crazy about the Frozen arc, but I really loved how this section came together! There are a lot of really good things in this section, a lot of great long term characters are going to come into play, and it all leads up to something very special and very important! So please, don't let the fact that it's called "The Frozen Section" scare you away.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. We got through the Regina Section, now we're going to get through the Frozen Section. Of course, I'm making all these promises about how wonderful a section it is and what do I start this chapter with? Disappointment. I can hear the groaning from all my Jefferson fans now. Why write an awesome relationship and then destroy it?! Well...because I had to. We don't know much about Rumple's relationship with Jefferson in OUAT. As I've stated before this isn't something that we can blame A&E entirely for. Sebastian Stan's career took off and it was clear that there was no bringing it back down. But in Storybrooke I can't just have Rumple think "Oh Jefferson's gone off to be Bucky Barnes...bye!" I needed a legit reason why Jefferson, who obviously had some kind of relationship with Rumple in the past and desperately wanted to get his daughter back, never once approached him about it. I needed a reason why he never went back to him to ask for help. The way I saw it, that kind of refusal comes from someone who is very hurt and you don't get "very hurt" from just "we were business partners". So I built up a relationship, solely for the purpose of making it crash so bad Jefferson would never want to see Rumple again and explain his absence from his life later. Now, we're not there yet. This is not Jefferson's last chapter, but in this chapter you can hopefully sort of see where it's going. Rumple does obviously care for Jefferson and Jefferson knows it. He's hurt here. But I think he's hurt in a way that he leaves thinking "he's gonna get over it. By the time the baby is born, he'll come around and things will go back to normal." Jefferson is not expecting this to be "the end". So imagine how disappointing it's gonna be when he looks back and realizes it sort of was. Peace and Happy Reading!


	76. Ways of the Wizard

"Well now…isn't this a surprise…"

It was the time of year that his castle was visited by people from all places, those who had come in the good weather to seek out him as well as anything he could potentially provide through a deal. He was used to the spells he'd set around his castle alerting him to visitors. What he wasn't used to was feeling familiarity with those visitors. Usually, one deal was enough for his clients; besides Jefferson and Regina, no one dared enter this castle a second time. And yet, one of the people coming up to his front door was familiar. And one was not.

In his workshop, he quickly went to an old wooden box where he kept the prize from the last deal he'd made with the girl…three ribbons, one of which had belonged to the Princess long ago. Still full of power and sisterly love that made him want to roll his eyes at the very notion, he closed the box over them, and the instant the lid clicked shut he saw images, images he'd never bothered to probe for before.

_He saw the three sisters, Helga, Ingrid, and Gerda. He saw Ingrid's struggle, how she tried to make the gloves work, and then he saw Helga and Ingrid. They shared a conversation shared, and in the next flash Helga was nothing but ice as her sister wept over her body. And Gerda…he watched as she used the vessel he'd once given them to capture Ingrid._

Visions ended in a rush, leaving him breathless and smiling as he used his senses to reach out over the grounds and locate the woman who was on her way. If what he'd seen was true, and he had little doubt it was as it rarely was wrong, that meant the girl approaching was not the Princess of Arendelle…she was the Queen. And that meant that the two little princesses he'd heard had been born to the Queen years ago, Elsa and Anna, did not belong to Ingrid, but to her.

Strange the way life could turn out…but what was it that she wanted now? Her sister free? Her other sister brought back to life?

He closed his eyes, and took a breath to focus himself.

_He saw neither of the girls he'd once known but another one, younger than when he'd met her. She was maybe about Snow White's age, perhaps a bit younger, her hair a striking white blonde with pale skin. She sat huddled on a bench, looking out the window with her legs drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. On her hands were the gloves he'd once given to Ingrid._

"A surprise indeed…" he muttered when reality brought him back into this world.

For once, he was quick to get the door himself before they could knock or even touch it. He swept himself down into a flourishing bow at the sight of their stunned reactions, which only made them smile once more.

"Your Majesties…to what do I owe this honor, nay, the privilege of being within your Graces?"

Gerda, she didn't look much different than she had when she was younger. She was older perhaps, but she still looked him over with the exact same amount of skepticism she had then. The King, however, seemed almost put at ease by his actions. Which was odd considering he felt nothing but on edge by the King. He'd been touched by troll magic. He felt it radiating from his skull, not out of the ordinary considering trolls specialized in head magic, but why he had it about him, why he had that much on him, was a curiosity.

"The privilege is ours," the King answered. "We've heard tales of you, Wizard. And your greatness-"

"Wizard!" he echoed. "Well, dear me, I just might blush!" The poor man hadn't a clue who he was dealing with. "Enter! And tell me all your problems that I might help you find what you seek," he pronounced, standing aside and motioning them to come in.

"Well, that's just it, sir. We don't know what we seek."

"Bit of a long way from Arendelle for an afternoon picnic, don't you think?"

"Well we were off searching for something to help us from a pirate, we were told he would have an answer for us, but his solution has proved to be unusable. We were told you might offer a solution."

"Every problem has a solution, the question is can you afford it, for all magic comes with a price. Tell me…what is your problem."

"It's our daughter, sir."

"Anna?" he questioned, trying to identify which of the girls he'd seen in his vision. No, it wasn't Anna, not by their gazes, at least. "Ah…dear Elsa, then. First in line for the throne."

"She's a dear girl," Gerda inserted.

"Yes, but troubled," her husband added quickly. "She was born…well…she was born with the ability to make ice and snow! And now her powers…they're getting out of control. We were hoping you might have something that could take this burden away from her. She's willing to do anything, and we're willing to try what we must to help her!"

"Ah! A familiar problem, not unlike a problem I've had to solve before with your sister, eh, dearie."

She'd been so quiet, and he looked right at her purposefully, just to hear her heart rate go up. He had expected that reaction after what had happened, what he didn't expect was for the skeptical look on her fact to go hard, for her eyes to narrow, and her husband to look at her hanging from his arm with surprise. Slowly she raised her chin and shook her head.

"Please, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Gerda is an only child," her husband added for her. "No one in either of our lines has ever been cursed with powers like Elsa's, we've checked all the family records."

The King was talking, but he kept his eyes firmly on Gerda, on the way she shifted her weight nervously, the way that she tightened her grip on her husband's arms by moving her fingers restlessly, and the biggest give away…for the first time since she'd ever been in his castle, she tore her gaze away from him and looked up at her husband instead. Those were the traits of a guilty woman trying to hide something. And now his curiosity was piqued.

"Please, sir, we don't know how to-"

He waved his hand in the air in front of the couple and suddenly the King stopped mid-sentence and stared straight ahead, eyes unseeing, as his wife continued to stare up at him. He focused his magic on the King. Like this his head was an open door. It was impossible for Gerda's husband to have gone through records and not found traces of her sisters unless he was lying, which he dismissed immediately because he didn't show any signs of lying. Either he truly didn't know or…well, he supposed now he knew what the troll magic he sensed in him was doing there.

He sighed as he directed his magic at Gerda and gave her the ability to move again without unfreezing her husband. Immediately jumped at the sudden statue before her, and moved away in panic.

"What did you do?"

"Let's you and I talk alone for a moment, shall we? Honestly, the dealmaker to the dealtaker," he commented.

"I…I don't know what you mean…" she commented, staggering away.

"Of course, you do, Dearie!" he commented. "If you didn't, I'd have found traces of troll magic in your head and these-" in his hand he summoned the box from upstairs and opened it in front of her "-wouldn't still have their magic attached to them."

Before him, Gerda went white as a ghost as she stared down into the depths of his box.

"You still have them," she muttered breathlessly.

"'You still have them?' Don't you mean 'what are those?'" he smiled quickly, sending the box back into storage. Gerda looked back up at him, then glanced at her husband and finally back to him and nodded.

"I remember."

"Shocking."

"Ingrid and Helga-"

"Don't waste your breath I've already seen it. What I haven't seen is why he is ignorant of not just one but two sisters, and you are not."

"All magic comes with a price," she responded. "After Ingrid killed Helga, the Kingdom would never have recovered. Civil war would have broken out. It was better for no one to remember them and just assume I was the only daughter. The trolls cast the spell, the cost is that I'm doomed to always remember those terrible days, and now watch helplessly as history repeats itself."

"With your daughter."

"Daughters," she corrected before she could catch herself. "Elsa already hurt Anna once, when she was a child. The trolls removed the memory of her magic from Anna, and her father was so hopeful that as she got older, she would be able to control it, but…I know better. Ingrid wanted so badly to control it and Helga believed in her, but in the end, that hope is what destroyed them both. I only did what I had to do in the end."

"And you want that same fate for your oldest daughter now too, is that it?"

"I love my daughters! And they love each other. I will do whatever it takes to save them from my sisters' fate. Even if it means stripping Elsa of her powers. I'm told that's possible."

He let out half a laugh at her ignorance. "For a normal sorcerer who voluntarily wants their powers stripped yes, but your daughter is an Elemental, there's nothing normal about her. I sent you home with the answer that would save you from her long ago."

"I won't subject my daughter to that urn."

"And it won't hold two people at once. Trap your daughter, and you'd release your sister. Free of one is still bound to another."

"There must be another way," she insisted.

"There is…only one way that I know of."

"Then tell me."

"Things haven't changed that much, dearie! All magic still comes with a price, you know, even if that magic is simply knowledge."

"Then tell me your cost, I'll pay anything!" she answered with the determination her sister Ingrid had once had. There was only one problem, he couldn't think of a single thing that she had he wanted. Except of course perhaps her daughter, he'd love to train her just as he'd trained Regina, just as he'd wanted to train Ingrid all those years ago. The idea of getting close to an Elemental and seeing how she worked, thrilled him. Not to mention that dreaded warning the Seer had given him all those years ago when he'd first met Ingrid and her sisters. He remembered it like it was yesterday. _A wall of ice._ _A mirror imbued with magic._ _Villian._ _Victim._ _Curse._ _A feeling of death, murder._ _"You shall try. Kill the spares. Spare your family. Try you shall."_ _Sisters. But not the three with the ribbons tied on their wrists. But rather a new set of sisters acting through a bond preserved…through the ribbons he had upstairs. "_ _Only when the time is right."_

Yes, that was a vision he wouldn't mind exploring. Especially since the Seer was telling him Elsa was important to it in some way. But he was good at evaluating situations and knowing what would and wouldn't work. The suggestion wasn't going to help her daughter, at least not in the way that Gerda wanted it to, so it was never going to happen. And considering the knowledge that he had to pass on to her was bad news, it only meant Elsa would continue to worsen without training. In that case…he could think of one thing that she had he wanted.

"Very well, a simple exchange of knowledge for knowledge. Tell me the location of the urn."

The skepticism returned to her face as she took a step back. "Why?"

"'Twas mine to begin with," he answered. "It's done its job, and you're no longer using it, may as well be assured that it's in a safe place."

"But…if you release my sister, or take that urn…"

He sighed and then straightened his back as he raised his right hand. "I, Rumpelstiltskin, do so swear not to remove the urn or free whoever dwells inside of it…blah, blah, blah…I believe you'll find the details in this contract…"

Magically he produced a long and wordy contract out of thin air. It wasn't an ideal promise, but he could cast spells around it, the same spells that were cast around his castle to know when someone else moved it, that alone would make it his own. And if she was smart enough to read the fine print, the Queen would see that his promise only lasted until someone else found the urn or opened it themselves. After that he was free to retain his property wherever he saw fit for whatever job he saw fit. To them it was endless waiting, to a man who did nothing but wait, it was just one more thing to keep his eyes on.

Gerda looked at the contract for a moment, she took it in her hand and accepted the quill he summoned for her. She read the contract that was nearly the size of her for all of maybe ten lines before she sighed "very well" and signed her name to it. He felt magic seize over him, a kind that would ensure he didn't touch that urn until someone else did first, but then he rolled the paper away and stored it safely out of sight as he leaned in closer.

"The location of the urn."

"Hidden in the North Valley."

Not a bad hiding place. His spells would make sure it stayed safe until someone else found it.

"Now it's your turn," she urged.

"Ah yes! Ehm…I think you'll want him to hear this too. Can't have him asking too many questions, can we?" he sneered. They'd been in the middle of discussing sisters that she swore she didn't have when he froze him, unfreezing him now would only lead to more questions. Gerda seemed to understand that and, with a sigh, moved back to wrap her hand around her husband's arm again. Once in place, he waved his hand again.

"-help our daughter!" he finished. "We'll do anything."

"No, no, I'm sorry!" he interrupted. "But I'm afraid the thing you need cannot be found."

"What is it?" he demanded at the same time Gerda cried "Excuse me!" in an angry voice. This was why those he dealt with never came back. Obviously, she hadn't gotten the message the first time. Maybe this time, it would sink in.

"Your daughter Elsa is an Elemental. There is only one object I know of that would be strong enough to free her of her power and hold them. 'Tis an object called the Sorcerer's Hat. Unfortunately, it is not in my possession."

"But-"

"All we have to do is find the hat?" the King questioned, cutting off his wife.

"If it were that easy, no Elemental would ever go through what your daughter is going through. The hat is currently in the possession of the Sorcerer's Apprentice. He guards it away, keeping it hidden and locked away at all times. Even if you were to find it, he'd never permit you to use it."

"Please, there must be another way," the King begged.

Again, the King was talking, but his eyes stayed locked on Gerda, who looked like she couldn't decide if she should cry or shout and argue with him even as her husband's presence told her she couldn't. Now she'd learned her lesson.

"I'm sorry, you've wasted your time in coming here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go again. I promise you the Frozen Section will not be all Frozen all the time and what do I give you in the second chapter...Frozen. But I will say, I actually ended up really liking how this chapter came out. We never saw it in the show, but it was eluded to. Anna finds out that her parents when to see Rumple and we do hear him confirm that they came to see him. He tells her that they seemed frightened of Elsa and he sent them away empty-handed because he didn't have the hat in his possession. I don't know why we didn't see it, but it seemed important enough to the storyline that I had to add it and I loved how it came out. I had a lot of fun with this chapter and despite the fact that it's Frozen, I'm hoping you'll love it too!
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for the great comments on the last chapter. I'm happy to know that I didn't break your hearts entirely with that as so many of you were expecting it at some point. We will see more of Jefferson, if you read Moments you know he'll be back, but it might be sooner than you think that we catch a glimpse of him. However, we do have a few other things to handle before we arrive there. Up next we're meeting a different, really important character. It wasn't my favorite flashback episode, it had some issues with it that I had to work out, but because of the nature of this fiction I was able to build some of the problems with it out of the fiction and I think it came out okay in the end. And besides, if you make it through this episode's chapters, then I promise you that what's comes after will make you very, very happy! Peace and Happy Reading!


	77. A Pain in the Heart

In his journey, there were moments, long stretches of boredom where nothing happened. In contrast, there were also times that he felt as though he was in a carriage that was racing out of control. It felt like the world was spinning faster than usual, that there was far too much happening at just one time. Disorienting as it was, it was that feeling that drove him to feel like he was getting closer to his end goal. He operated best in those conditions, and so it was the feeling that he longed for most of all. But the space in between…that was the difficult part.

The thing about possessing a power that was not his own meant that it gave him information he didn't have, but also kept him guessing. He could see the future, but he didn't always have a clear understanding of it. Sometimes that could be an annoyance, but sometimes it gave him just enough of an edge to outwit others while still keeping life interesting. He never knew when someone he knew was important was going to pop up in his life, or in the life of one of his targets...again.

Snow White was on the run. It wasn't long after her father's funeral that Regina had hired a man, a hunter, to take Snow White into the forest and kill her. But Regina had put her trust in the wrong person, and that poor hunter had put too much faith in the death that awaited him if he returned without Snow White's heart. He'd let the Princess go, and Regina hadn't killed the poor Hunter, but rather taken his heart. She kept him on staff as a guard primarily, but the entire Kingdom knew she kept him as her plaything on the side. Poor fool. From what he understood of the lad, there would have been no harsher punishment than capture.

As for Snow White, she'd run off, escaped to the farthest corner of the Kingdom, it was necessary now that Regina was hunting her. With Leopold dead and Snow on the run, there was no other choice but for her to ascend the throne. She used her magic flagrantly now, striking fear into the heart of all who might try to oppose her. And she spread rumor after rumor of the crimes of Snow White, accusing her of murdering her own father, treachery against the crown, and stealing from her own people. Of course, the Kingdom didn't truly believe her. Snow White had grown up before them, and many remembered how years ago she'd saved them from a bandit, the one that Regina had hired. But it didn't matter. Regina had the power now, and she used it beautifully to finally take the revenge she'd longed for from her step-daughter and hold the Kingdom in her sway. Her mother would be proud.

But Snow White continued to elude the Queen. She was clever with a bow and arrow, good with which berries she could eat and which she couldn't, and she'd been taken in by a family on the edge of the Kingdom, a family the likes of which he'd never anticipated seeing again…

"Well…hello again Granny…" he muttered as the watched the three of them sit down to eat one night. "My oh my, how you've grown."

It had been a long time since he'd see the werewolf who had helped him to acquire that useless tea set of his. She had been important, but he'd never known how and he'd never understood why his visions always only ever referred to her as "Granny". She'd been in her late teens then, maybe early twenties, now she was much older. If he was honest, it wasn't her that gave it away, but the brunette who was sitting across from Snow White. Not only was she the spitting image of the "Granny" he'd once known, but she was also wearing a very familiar red cape. He'd smiled then, the beginnings of a complicated relationship that would span decades. It was interesting.

Of course, sometimes his visions left him no room for shock or surprise. He kept an eye on Jefferson and his new, ever-growing wife, looking for any sign of temptation or hint that he might return to his old ways. But alas, the only thing he ever saw was the birth of his daughter, just as he predicted. Jefferson wrote to him not long after that, informing him of what he already knew, and that the girl was called Grace. He responded by sending him a new hatbox, one with the ability to block the powers of his magical hat from being sensed by others. Jefferson, in his newfound stupidity, would probably think it was kind, but part of him hoped he'd see it for what it was, a gift to represent the burying of something truly spectacular.

That year, at Bae's birthday, he lit a candle and resolved to move on, to forget about Jefferson and the waste that he was, and focus on moving forward. There was still much to do. He had to find his curse. He had to keep watch over Snow White, a far more difficult task now that Regina grew more bloodthirsty by the moment. He had to look after her Prince Charming and ensure they meet one day now that she was of age to carry a little Princess, or in this case, a Savior.

He started his research looking at True Love, the True Love that he knew in his heart James, or Prince Charming, as the Seer insisted, and Snow White would share. But children born of True Love often weren't Saviors at all, simply very magical beings. Saviors were rare. Saviors could have magic but also could not. They were not the result of True Love as magic was in people, they were the result of a curse. A special child born by fate with the ability to defeat a curse. How was he supposed to ensure that this girl, whoever she may be, became the Savior, specifically to his curse. That was the question…

And that was the moment he first felt another problem…one that he should not have.

Chest pain.

It interrupted his genius, stopped his thoughts, silenced the Seer in his head.

It felt like…like a squeeze. He had never had his heart removed from his chest and squeezed, but he imagined that was what it would feel like if he had. He was the Dark One, he'd been the Dark One for a long time, he was no stranger to pain, he got headaches and odd twinges now and again, he simply applied his magic to his ailments and was better. But this was no ailment…there was something magical to the pain.

The pain was gone almost as soon as it had arrived. He supposed if he were mortal he would have ignored it, explained it away as some kind of normal bodily ailment, but that thrill of magic haunted him. He searched the Chronicles, looking for any explanation he could find. There was none. No one mentioned such a pain in their chests, no one talked about ailments they couldn't control.

It was getting ridiculous, he had work to do, he didn't have time to be spending every waking breath on this, he needed to get back to his work on the curse, his research on Saviors…any yet every time he turned away from such a pain, something inside warned him, something inside poked and prodded and whispered that it wasn't nothing, but something. There was nothing in the Chronicles, but he had the sensation he knew, if only he ask the right person, he might find something helpful.

He hadn't been out to Camelot in years. Though he hadn't given up on the tasks Nimue had given him entirely, he'd been devoted in the years since Baelfire left to finding him again. He'd been watching the Apprentice, should the opportunity arise that he might kill the bastard child, he would. Until that opportunity arose, however, that curse and getting back to Baelfire was his main focus. The Dark Ones all seemed to accept that, they'd left him alone ever since the night Bae had gone, leaving him to hear their voices as his own these days, but for once the nagging voice in the back of his head over this pain in his chest wasn't his own, but one he'd not seen in decades.

"Nimue…" he muttered, standing alone on the dark cliff. He was where it had all begun, the place the Dark One was born, the place that all Dark One's felt closest to their power. She'd always promised she would be close if he needed her, and so she was. All he'd had to do was come out here and summon her forth with the dagger that now reflected her own name.

"It's been a long time, Rumplestiltskin."

"Not long enough," he growled. She stood there, still as ever in her long robes. He was pacing and pacing back and forth when he usually much preferred to be still himself. But he couldn't help it. He would much rather do this in his tower, with his wheel before him so he could spin. Instead, he was alone in the dark woods at night talking to a woman he'd grown to despise for no reason in particular other than the fact that she was holding this over his head. She knew something, or one of the others did, but it wasn't in the Chronicles! Why wasn't it in the Chronicles?!

"Our meeting is of your own choice," she snapped knowingly. "If you don't want me here-"

"You've something to tell me," he interrupted. "You have something you want to share you just won't do it…if this is how I have to have a conversation with you these days then so be it."

"Such fire," she smirked. "It would seem you've come a long way from the scared little spinner we once encountered. You've been the Dark One the longest now…congratulations."

"I don't want your appreciation," he snapped, pacing again. "I want your information. I want to know what you know."

"Still so disrespectful. Still without a care for who you speak to."

He stopped walking. Maybe that was it, maybe that was a reason that she bothered him. Even when he had just become the Dark One, her spirit had always been so haughty. The other voices had always bowed down to her like she would kill them if she could, but now that he held the title of the Dark One longer than anyone and that included her, he'd learned a few things. If anything…she was second to him.

"You are nothing…" he stated, looking her dead in the eye. "You are but a fragment, a memory of a curse left behind. You are knowledge and nothing more. It is you who are subordinate to me."

Her gaze narrowed, though her face never flinched or barely moved at all he could feel the anger at him gathering in the pit of his stomach, but he wouldn't be moved. He didn't care if the others never spoke to her in such a way. He wasn't afraid of her like he once had been. She couldn't hurt him even if she wanted to. And even if she could, as the carrier of her curse, it was in her best interest not to.

"Have care the way you speak, Rumplestiltskin. Mind your thoughts."

"I'm not afraid of you as the others are. Mind your own thoughts. The pain in my chest, you know something about it, but nothing is written in the Chronicles. If this is how I have to speak to you about what you know, then so be it. Tell me…"

"The pain you feel is because of your age," she answered immediately and without emotion. Because she was a memory. She belonged to him, not the other way around. He'd summoned her, and now she had no choice but to answer because he willed her to.

"Explain," he ordered.

"The pain you feel has only ever been felt by three other Dark Ones, myself included. The pain is in your heart, Rumplestiltskin…how foolish you never thought to check it."

Check his own heart…pull it from his chest, offer someone the opportunity to take it and control him like the dagger…a foolish notion that was. It was a notion that had gotten at least two of his former Dark Ones killed. He wasn't about to repeat their mistakes.

"What's wrong with my heart?"

"Let's see if you can answer that yourself…the hearts you pull from the chests of your victims aren't real hearts."

"No, they're magical representations of their soul."

"Red is granted to good hearts, and black goes to…"

His skin felt tight. It tingled. His aunts…in his youth they'd told him a story, one about a child who did wicked deed after wicked deed while his brother did good deed after good deed. The brother who did good deeds ended up with a heart of gold, the one who did bad deeds…

"His heart turned black and cracked in two. Funny what passes for a children's tale sometimes, isn't it?" Nimue questioned with something like casual amusement. "Amusing" wasn't exactly the word he'd use.

"I'm the Dark One. I'm immortal. I can't die as the child in the story."

"No one ever mentioned death, Rumplestiltskin. And you may be immune to a great many things, but a black heart isn't one of them."

"Stop talking in riddles."

"Ah, but it's what so many of us are good at, aren't we! Riddles are practically our first language."

It said something about how angry he was that he couldn't bring himself to roll his eyes at her. If he could, he would have raced forward and squeezed her neck beneath his palm to get the words out of her. As it was, all he had to do was glare at her like she'd once glared at him.

"Tell me what it means…"

The First Dark One smirked at him. "See if you can work it out for yourself. Dark as we Dark Ones are, it is those little flecks of red left within us that keep us weak. And those weaknesses are what keeps us human. Without those, without a single flicker of humanity left...why, then we'd truly become-"

"A monster," he realized. It wasn't the word that set his heart pounding, but Nimue's response, her build-up to it. That woman, if he could even call her that, was truly wicked. She hated the human parts of her and hated weakness, but if even she thought that the end result would be bad then...it would be bad. Very, very bad.

"It's nothing I'd worry about, for now, Rumplestiltskin," she shrugged. "The curse does take a great toll on the heart, but you are still many decades away from a completely black heart. Until that day comes, if it ever does for no Dark One has ever lived to see that day, you can manage your pain with magic."

"And when the day comes that I can't," he insisted, ignoring her jab about not living long enough to see it. All he cared about was living long enough to see Baelfire, he couldn't risk not making it long enough for that at least.

Nimue sighed. Finally, she took her first steps off of the platform she'd been on, the forge where Excalibur had been created and broken. "Toward the end of his human existence, Merlin worked on a potion. At first, I believe he worked on it with the hope it might make me back into the woman I'd once been for him, but in the end, he created it, I believe, to heal his own heart. He had hoped to take it the night before he faced me but couldn't bring himself to the coward. He always did believe that pain had its purpose. It made him a sap, and now…he lives on making sap, how perfectly ironic."

"The potion, how do you know about it? You want me to break into Merlin's tower to get his notes, but if this was after you left, then how do you know it exists."

"Because the Elixir of the Wounded Heart, as it came to be known, was stolen. It was removed from the tower by the Apprentice, stolen, and changed hands several times. The last Dark One who thought he might have need of it tracked it to Oz."

"Oz."

"He had no means to reach it…perhaps you do…as the oldest your reach extends so much farther than any of our own ever did."

Indeed. And one of the portals that Jefferson had left him would take someone to Oz and return it. He only needed to locate the bottle.

"And this Elixir…it'll help the problem."

"As I've said Rumplestiltskin 'the problem', if it ever comes to pass, is decades away. But if there is any hope for you, then that would be it."

"And there are no copies of the potion? No way to recreate it."

"If any exist they lie with the Apprentice or are kept safely tucked away in Merlin's Tower. If you went after the Apprentice, like I asked-"

"I have no time for chasing your demons," he insisted, setting his jaw. "I'll handle the Apprentice in my own time, in my own way, until then I will find a way to see my son again. As for my heart and locating the Elixir…now there's the problem with all the rest of you that never made it this far…you have no vision for the future."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few of you guessed that we were going to move right into Anna and her time in the Enchanted Forest but nope. First we have to go to this place. Partly because we have some time to spend here. Timeline wise, now that Anna's parents have been here we have to give them time to leave, have their ship sink, Elsa freak out, Anna meet Kristoff, up the mountain, Prince Hans is evil, blah, blah, blah...basically it's in this stretch of time that the Frozen movie takes place as well as the events in Once Upon a Time that lead up to Anna saying "I have to follow in mom and dad's footsteps". So...like I said, we have time. And in this time I had to insert a particular flashback storyline. You might have thought it came later and no one can really blame you because A&E got some things on the timeline wrong in order to place it, but more about that tomorrow. So yes, ladies and gents, I hope you are ready to meet our Robin Hood!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Glad that you enjoyed what we never saw. I'm hoping that you like this chapter too. This is the first time we get to see Nimue in this fiction. I love their interaction. In some ways it's meant to be a throw back to the previous fiction when this happened all the time but in others it's really meant to be a "wow, look how the tables have turned". Nimue is still haughty and arrogant, but Rumple is quite obviously totally and completely in control of those voices in his head. Their interaction is fun to me. Peace and Happy Reading!


	78. Useful Information

He should have known. He could have guessed, the moment that Nimue had told him a Dark One had tracked the potion he needed to Oz, it should have been unfailingly obvious that it would be with Zelena. How could it not be? That girl spent all her time in the Emerald City, in the palace that had been built by the Wizard, who had collected magical artifacts to use with others. Naturally, the Elixir of the Wounded Heart would have been with him. Or rather it had been until Zelena turned him into a flying monkey. Now the Elixir was in her possession. He hadn't a clue if she even knew what she truly possessed, but he knew one thing…he couldn't go after it himself.

Zelena was smart, she was a clever little witch, and though they'd been moved she'd had those shoes in her possession long enough to do who knew what with him. Even if she hadn't planned on despising him and leaving the day that they'd parted ways, he trusted that her castle was fortified against him. He trusted that if he appeared in that realm, she would know about it and have none of it. No, she couldn't kill him, but he also couldn't risk her finding out the reason that he was there. If he wasn't successful, then she'd protect that potion with her life, and he'd never see it…if it was even necessary. Nimue had said that the issue with his heart going black was a risk, but one that was a long way away. He didn't even know if he'd ever come to truly need it in his lifetime.

Still, he'd searched through the bobbles and instructions that Jefferson had left him and found only one way into the Land of Oz. It was a single potion that when sloshed onto a mirror would take the individual to the room of doors they'd encountered when they'd gone to the Land Without Color. This meant that it wasn't a direct line to Oz; it was simply a direct line to any realm someone wished to go to. That made the potion highly valuable. Was this really what he was willing to waste it on?

No, he wasn't. At least not at first. It would be years, Nimue had said, and so he'd begun to bother himself with other things, like master the use of the fairy wand he'd acquired so long ago. But while Nimue had said the change to his heart was not a threat, it was clear that one of the Dark Ones disagreed. The moment he'd made up his mind not to use the potion, he'd felt that sting across his chest once more. He'd diverted the magic, used his own to chase it away. But someone in his head was playing tricks on him, and every time he got too involved in doing something else, the pain would spike. Clearly, someone disagreed with the great Nimue, and they were sending him the message the only way they could, but who was it? If he knew who he could talk to them himself and not just through Nimue! He could search through memories and materials, it would give him a hint! But when he tried to isolate a voice, come up with the name of the Dark One he should speak to about the pain, none arrived, and he was certain that if he talked to Nimue again, she'd give him the same answer. That left him with one option. He had to send someone for the cordial. It was the only way he'd get peace and be able to work.

So who was he to send? Well, the most straightforward answer was the least likely at the moment. Jefferson. He could talk to Jefferson, the boy still had his hat, he could simply have him go and retrieve it, and then he'd have no use for the potion at all.

But he couldn't. He'd been watching Jefferson ever since he'd left to go to his wife and new baby. Six months ago, his wife had died. He'd been left alone with his daughter, and his mental state…it was dark. He watched him enough to know that when he was with his daughter, his face lit up brighter than the sun, but the moment she was asleep, he hung his head, he cried, he surrendered to a different kind of mad darkness. He considered asking the old fellow to help, even wondered if it might give him a sense of purpose again, but as he watched him sit by the fireplace one night, head in his hands, shoulders hunched…he couldn't bring himself to do it. It had been years since Jefferson had gone to Oz, even then, he'd had issues with Zelena and the Wizard, now he was grieving and out of practice. Maybe one day he'd be fit for service again, but at the moment he was far from the ideal candidate.

He needed someone else. Someone talented enough to sneak into Oz undetected, fetch the cordial, and bring it back. He needed someone who could be bought, someone desperate enough that they might try something crazy.

"Show me the one I need," he ordered his glass ball one night when he'd been fiddling with his potions and felt the tug on his heart again. The image that appeared before him was of a boy, someone he'd never seen before. He was handsome, golden locks that he was sure women would swoon over. He appeared to be at a pub, sitting alone, nursing an ale. As he idly twisted the cup in front of him, he could make out the image of a lion tattoo on his wrist. Interesting, though he wore an apron, there was a hint of something more to him. But what was it?

He gasped.

He felt his hand automatically clutch the crystal ball in his hand, ensuring that he wouldn't drop it, but then surrendered himself to the inevitable. This was a vision. One of the future but the very near future.

_Tomorrow._

_It would happen tomorrow._

_As soon as he knew it, he registered the fact that he was seeing back inside that pub his mystery man had been sitting in. That very man was now working the bar, pouring ale, getting drinks, but also listening to a man who was sitting there._

_John,_ the Seer whispered in his ear. _Little John._

_Looking the man over, he suddenly had a new definition for the word irony._

_"I have a fresh lead," the man stated to his potential thief. "King Midas's carriage is passing through town tomorrow, and he'll only have a few of his guards with him."_

_"You know I haven't so much as lifted a penny since Marian and I got married," the man retorted. "Look around. This is my new life."_

_"But you're not a barkeep…you're a thief."_

_Ah yes, his potential thief was gaining more and more of that potential every moment. And now he had a name for the wife. Marian. That was useful information._

_But before he could contemplate the importance of that, the vision shifted. The pub he was in was suddenly very quiet. And his thief was talking to a man dressed in black clothes. A guard…one of Regina's? It was the right color. That gave him a potential location, somewhere in Regina's Kingdom._

_"Well, I had to see this for myself," the guard stated in a mocking tone. "Robin of Locksley walking the straight and narrow. Nice apron. M'lady…"_

_Suddenly the vision was filled with a pretty woman, olive skin and dark hair, who appeared less than excited to see the man before her. He on the other hand was very excited. Robin of Locksley and his wife Marian. Not only did he have their names but also a location. Locksley located just north of Sherwood Forest and certainly a part of Regina's Kingdom._

_That was all valuable information, but he could feel his chest squeezing now for a reason far different than his heart problems. He'd be damned if he forced this vision to end now. He wanted every last detail of it. Even the unamused "Sheriff" reply the woman gave was informative._

_It told him she detested him with every bone in her body._

_"What can I do for you, Nottingham?" Robin questioned, pulling the guard's attention off of his wife. It was a very telling kind of attention he'd been paying her. The kind that made his own stomach curdle. He may have been the Dark One, but at least he had a moral standard he'd never sink below, unlike this fellow._

_"What can you do for me?" the Sheriff asked, helping himself to some ale. "Well, for starters, your taxes are overdue."_

_There was a bang. In his head, he saw someone pound a notice into the door. Tax notice. More useful information._

_"I need time," the man insisted._

_"Well, because I'm in a generous mood, I'm giving you two days. After that, I'll have no choice but to shutter your tavern and throw you in debtor's prison. And poor old Marian here will have no arms to hold her but mine."_

_"She'd never be with you," Robin growled, staring at the man._

_"I can speak for myself," Marian insisted. "I'd never be with you," she stated, looking at the Sheriff with even more disgust than he'd thought was possible to muster._

_"Well, when you are on the street, and your husband is in jail, perhaps you'll see my appeal."_

_"I'll find your money. Somehow."_

_"Really? Two days."_

He pulled himself out of his vision with a smile. This conversation hadn't happened yet. Tomorrow afternoon it would, and then the countdown would begin. In three days, he'd have his potion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack! This stupid episode flashback. There aren't many flashbacks that I truly hate, but this one was just so problematic from the beginning. A&E screwed up the timeline on this one really bad, to the point that I offer no kind alternatives for what they were thinking other than "let's give Robin fans a half-assed episode and oh, lets also us Will Scarlet because he's around this season". So, in this chapter, we see one of the first problems with the timeline. In every episode (and trust me, I've done my research), A&E put in at least one timeline indicator. Whether it's a line, or clothes, or a reference to something else, there is usually always something that indicates where we are in the timeline. I think they attempted to do it here, but sort of hope that I'm wrong because they got it so wrong. I think they tried to use Little John's statement about Midas' carriage as their indication that this is around the time that Snow and Charming meet. But here's the thing, it can't be Midas' carriage. I mean, it could be, be it absolutely cannot be during that time. I know that because in this episode he acquires the charm to change his appearance. He has it when he first meets Belle in her yellow dress. But Midas' carriage comes by when Snow and David first meet, later we find out that is when Emma and Hook arrive from the future and when they arrive they go to the Dark Castle and we see Belle in her blue dress. So unless she's going backwards, there is no time for this to be at the same time as the important Midas carriage passing through. Further to that point. It seemed pretty obvious to me that there was no Roland in this episode. But in the episode Belle meets Robin, it's clear Marion is pregnant and in the Back to the Future episode, Roland is already born. Whew! That's a long explanation for something that I can simply tell you...just trust me. I did my research and a lot of it for such an insignificant episode. This is before the place A&E put it on the timeline. So we're just gonna go with the idea it's a random Midas' Carriage. Okay?
> 
> Thank you to RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Always happy to please you with some Nimue sass. We'll see her again, she's going to continue to show up briefly throughout Rumple's chronicles. But as for where we're at now, there are two more chapters for this episode. And there are other things wrong with it, but I think the other really big one has already sort of been handled. I knew it was coming and planned for it. If you are curious, we'll get there soon enough. Peace and Happy Reading!


	79. Background Check

Research was the key to making any good deal work. While his gift from the Seer gave him an overwhelming advantage in doing research, he made it his business not to trust anyone, whether they were in his own head or not. That was how he found himself donning his old red cloak, which perfectly hid his face from view, and wandering around the market square of Locksley inquiring about someone who might be able to help him get compensation for his marred face. Peasants were so stupid they believed anything, one quick flash of flesh and they gasped and told him nearly everything he needed to know about Robin of Locksley. He was a thief and a talented one at that. While most boys had grown up training to be apprentices, he'd been learning how to pick locks and practicing his archery with his band of Merry Men in the woods.

"Odd name for a group of men."

"Aye, but not if you knew them, always together, always laughing and going on…they were the jolliest batch of criminals you'd ever seen in your life. Calling them anything but 'merry' would have been a disservice," one man explained.

They were happy together. They lived out in the woods, taking whatever they needed and whatever they wanted...at least until _she_ happened.

Maid Marian, the most beautiful woman in all of Sherwood Forest, or so the story went. Most beautiful woman in Sherwood Forest or not her family had been farms, and poor ones at that. One day, while out and about with his Merry Men, Robin spied the steed of Marian's father. A proud and noble creature, it easily was worth more than their entire land. And strong enough to transport food they grew to and from town to be sold. Robin admired the creature and stole it. Everyone was a bit sparse on the details of what followed, but rumor had it that Maid Marian herself had shown up to his camp that night, armed. Some said she was armed with bow and arrow, others a knife, some said her wits and pretty face. All explained that she'd left with the horse. The next day, Robin went to her family and gave them two of his three horses and from that moment on he'd changed. He and his men lived a minimal lifestyle, taking only what they needed, not what they wanted. They stole from the rich and gave to the poor in an effort to even the playing field. Marian fell in love with him, ran off and joined the Merry Men.

They were wonderful together, absolutely unstoppable, save for the one force determined to stop them and take Marian for himself. In a way, Robin had been safe when he was stealing indiscriminately. He'd stolen occasionally from the rich but most of the time he'd taken from poor and middle-class families. He knew from his experience before he was the Dark One that those sort of problems were of no concern to law enforcement. But make a habit out of robbing the rich and noble, suddenly he had a name and a reputation that was not conducive to having a family. Now the Sheriff was hunting Robin Hood, or perhaps "making his life miserable" was a more accurate description.

No one could prove anything about who was stealing the money. Robin Hood was good enough that he didn't leave any evidence behind that he was the one who was robbing the rich. And those who benefitted from his generosity weren't willing to divulge the truth about how they'd come into their own luck. And because Robin himself never kept anything he stole there was no way to trace him to the crimes, no way to arrest him, no way to hang him for his crimes. But that didn't mean that the Sheriff was going to sit back and live with that. He dogged Robin, followed him from place to place, hoping to catch him in the act. He never did.

"Can't be easy, being under the Sheriff's thumb like that..."

"Well that's why they've left, innit?!" someone shouted at him. "You won't find them here in Locksley! Last I heard Robin retired and the pair opened a bar in Sherwood Forest, just South of here! Not entirely out of the Sheriff's reach but far enough away they don't spend their nights with one eye open. They say he hasn't pinched a penny since, trying to make a decent living and start a family now, but I imagine he's still got the talent. He'd just have to have a good reason to put it to good use. Perhaps a face like that would give him the right motivation."

Sherwood Forest. They'd moved. To escape the sheriff, to make a life for themselves, to outrun his reputation, there were many reasons why. But the long and short of it was that he was looking for the right person in the wrong place. Sherwood Forest was once a happy place, or so he was told. It was one of King Leopold's favorite places to take his daughter on outings. But since he'd died, Regina had raised the taxes in this little village making life nearly unbearable, and no one had any idea why. He suspected it was simply because it was a place Leopold and Snow had bonded, but he wasn't about to share that information with anyone. Regina was doing a good enough job of scaring the people all on her own what with the raids she was hosting in town to find her step-daughter and bring her to justice. It had been a while since he'd seen Regina, he always forgot to tell her that she was hiding much closer to home, not in a town, but on a little isolated farm with a couple of Werewolves. How clumsy of him…

It seemed to take an eternity for darkness to fall over Sherwood Forest that night; things always seemed to take longer when one was waiting for something to happen. Earlier in the day, he had found the dreaded Sheriff Nottingham, the one from his vision who had been tormenting the couple, and followed him until he came to a pub. He never went inside, merely positioned himself high up in a tree and watched as he and his own band went in, someone appeared and hammered the tax notice on the door, and then the band left in relative peace. It was interesting to watch. As far as he could remember, he'd never actually been there as a third party observer when any of his visions had come to pass. He wasn't inside watching it, but waiting outside and watching the tax notice go up gave him a small chill. It was good to have that kind of power, to know without a doubt that the stage was set and all he had to do was sit and wait for what he knew would come. It was the moment the sunset and he watched throughout the evening as ladies and gentlemen staggered out of the pub one after the other until finally, he saw the olive-skinned girl. The lovely maid Marian, who he was sure was no maid anymore, departed for what he assumed was their home. The candles inside the establishment began to dim after that, and once it had been long enough, he allowed himself to stand back on the ground and enter the pub to meet his candidate.

The bar smelled like peasants; the musty smell of barley mixed with vomit, body odor, and stale water. He didn't know why he'd expected anything more from the establishment of Robin of Locksley. Perhaps it was because he was down on his hands and knees right now, scrubbing the floor of the empty bar vigorously. A place the sheriff had stepped, perhaps? Some things, like the smell of desperation and the rot of a black heart, were things not easily scrubbed away. It would be easier to take the smell out of this place, and he knew that was an impossible task.

"Great to see the sheriff didn't scare everyone off," Robin mentioned as he walked past him. "What can I get for you?"

"Oh, I didn't come here for the ale," he answered, mimicking the accent of the sheriff and all in this pathetic little place. "Nor, clearly, for the ambiance. I came...to make a deal," he stated, turning toward him and throwing his hood up over his head. "I've asked around for the best thief in the land, dearie," he smiled, allowing the false accent to go away as he advanced on the poor boy. Was it his reputation that had frightened him? Or was he just surprised to look upon a face as hideous as his own? Difficult to tell, but then he didn't really care which had stunned him into silence, he just cared that he got the job done. "And everyone's pointed me to you."

"Yes, well…uh, I'm not in that line of business anymore," Robin informed him.

"And soon, it seems, you won't be in the tavern business, either. Is that a tax notice on the door?" he inquired knowingly. It was. It was the very notice from his vision. He did love this power the Seer had given him…if only he could learn to better bend it too his will as she had. Still…he had to be thankful for what he had, and what he had included an answer for Robin as well as his heart.

"Get to the point," Robin urged.

"I can solve all your problems!" he answered, turning back and revealing a bundle of freshly spun golden straw. Thread would have been easier, of course, but he didn't like to leave the world with too many answers. One town said he spun gold, another thread, another yarn…that was how rumor and fear were spread, and that was how he ran his businesses and dealings; rumor and fear.

"I need you to go to a...a faraway land. A land that's ruled by an old compatriot who would not be, um, happy to see my pretty face again. I need you to break into the vault and steal the Elixir of the Wounded Heart," he explained, offering the bundle of straw to him.

"That's a ridiculously self-explanatory name."

He shrugged. He didn't make the names, but it was an unfortunate truth that he agreed with young Robin of Locksley.

"And also probably a fool's errand!"

"Oh, it's far from that, dearie, far from that! It does exactly what it says. It cures wounded hearts...physically, emotionally…it's powerful stuff." Powerful enough to cure him in a future that was far, far away. And worth the cost of golden straw that it would take to spare this tavern from the King's tax. Afterall, what good would it do him if he succeeded in getting to the Realm Without Magic if he died once he was there? The fact that he wanted it made it valuable. The fact the he needed it made it nearly priceless. "So, how would you like to take a little trip?"

If his research was right, then Robin of Locksley had been honest when he told him that he didn't steal anymore. But there was a difference between "anymore" and "not lately" and that difference was desperation. In truth, he'd suspected it would take a lot more convincing to get dear Robin to a place where he would agree to do this for him. The fact that he was silent told him that he was a lot easier to convince than he'd thought, which meant he was a lot more desperate than he let on. A hundred years later, and this was why the making of deals continued to thrill him.

"Where would I be going?" Robin inquired.

"Another realm! A land called Oz," he beamed, talking quickly so that he wouldn't laugh excitedly at such an easy deal. Robin wasn't like the ordinary idiot peasant. He would sense distrust and might back out because of it. He had to keep this short and sweet. "Would you do that for me?"

Robin of Locksley opened his mouth once, then closed it again before finally letting out a sigh of surrender.

"I've heard of this Oz, of its riches and wonders, of its Wizard-"

"Former!" he inserted. "I think you'll find the place under new management should you decided to take the deal."

Something winked, crafty and clever in his eyes as a smirk bloomed over his face. "And it's that new management that you don't wish to encounter again," he assumed. "Very well. If I should agree to this, how would I get there? I don't have the ability to cross realms."

"Ah, I was hoping you'd ask about that little detail…" from within the depths of his cloak, he pulled forth the small vial of clear liquid that Jefferson had given him. He'd removed the tag a week earlier, unwilling to give his accomplice too much information, but it didn't matter since he'd memorized it. "Very rare, very valuable, only use when absolutely necessary as it's the last of its kind and won't last long."

Robin Hood picked it up but seemed unimpressed. "What's it do?"

"When poured into a puddle of water it becomes a portal to the room of doors. It is a ticket that can get he who possesses it into any realm through that hall and back again so long as they remember where the door is."

Robin listened as he painted him a picture, a detailed one of what he was to do. Once he was in the room of doors, he was to look for the green one marked Oz. He wasn't sure where the portal would take him, but he was to go to the Emerald City, to the former palace of the Wizard where he would find a Wicked Witch, he'd know her at once for her skin matched the city. Somewhere in her stores, the Wizard's former collection, he would find a container, probably a goblet of some kind that would be marked _Cor Aut Mors_ , at least it would be if the research he'd done was correct. Stealing the goblet on its own could prove to be difficult-

"I've stolen bigger in my time!" Robin suddenly interjected, sounding almost insulted at the idea. He resisted a smile. That was good. He was getting to him.

"Oh, I've no doubt you could, but keep in mind for this incident I need only a small amount, a single dose. Of course, should you manage more…I might be able to manage more golden straw!" With a wave of his hand he produced several small glass vials that would do just fine for transporting the potion. "Retrieve my potion and you shall receive this as payment," he explained pulling the straw from his grasp. "It is enough and more to cover your tax debt, keep this…establishment running, and dear Marian out of the hands of a certain Sheriff for good. So…do we have a deal?" he asked as he extended his hand.

Robin hesitated, he thought about it, a sure sign that he knew he was working with a devil, but then after a quick glance at the potion on the table, the vials in his hand and the golden straw he still clung too he gave a small nod, accepting temptation. He extended his hand to shake his own and looked him in the eyes as he said "deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, straightforward, saw it in the show. Rumple finds Robin, they make a deal, Robin accepts it. Questions? Oh good, because it's the next chapter that needed fixing.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I'm always happy to hear you have faith in where we're going and the research I've done. I just hope you'll be okay with what I've done for the next chapter. And hey, if you're not, the chapter after that one should make up for it a bit! Peace and Happy Reading!


	80. Delayed Delivery

He'd done what he could. Now all his hopes and dreams rested with Robin of Locksley, that he would venture off into the land of Oz, that he'd not be caught by Zelena, that he would retrieve a potion or two, and return it to him so he could save his business. It was certainly no simple or easy task he'd left the boy with. He suspected that if it was different, if it was in their own realm or if there was some way that he could help him or get magic to him in that other realm, he'd have been content to sit before his cauldron and watch. But knowing he could do nothing, even if something did go well forced him to return to his castle and occupy himself in other ways, lest he go crazy waiting for Robin to call his name three times to collect his potion.

For some time he worked on the issue of True Love, and figuring out how he was to get a certain someone of his own choosing to become the Savior of his curse, but he'd quickly discovered that without the curse in hand to give him direction it was useless. He could come up with a thousand different alternatives and still have no true answer until he saw what he had to work with. Every curse was different, there was no point in planning for it until he had it.

And so he turned his attention once more to that curse, to the places it could be. He uselessly stared at map after map feeling idle for knowing that just looking at a map was not the way to answer the questions he had about its location. It was out there, somewhere. But it wouldn't be labeled on any map. The only way to find it would be to look, but with too many places to start and too much on his mind, he put the issue aside.

He looked into his crystal ball, checked in on the Sorcerer's Apprentice, happily sweeping the outside of his home for no reason that he could identify. It was as if the Apprentice was waiting for something and just as bored as he was waiting for Robin to return. Ultimately as the sun rose the night after Robin had taken off to find his prize, the day his taxes were due, he turned to something he'd been working with for years now, since he'd found it: the Fairy Wand.

He'd buried the gypsy that they'd came with, just as promised, and to his knowledge, the deformed child now lived with his father just as he'd promised, but he had never figured out how the woman had gotten a hold of the wands. If he ever grew desperate enough, he supposed he could call upon the Blue Fairy, but such an idea was too absurd for him to even consider. She'd want the wands back, of course, probably in exchange for telling him about whoever they belonged to and that was a deal he was unwilling to make. Having the wands in his possession was much more valuable than the information about how it had gotten into the hands of gypsy-girl. Knowing how to work the wands however…that was his challenge.

He was the Dark One, his magic was Dark, black as his heart was slowly becoming, Fairy magic was infamous for being Light. How he was supposed to use the fairy wand so that he could wield Light Magic and not just Dark Magic was difficult and yet what he'd figured out so far, was that it was simple.

He could do little things with the wands, the simpler the better in fact. When he'd started using the wands he'd begun trying to use it for fire, like he'd started with his Dark Magic. But it never went the way he wanted it to. He tried to make fire and instead created flowers. He tried to boil a potion, and instead, it turned to ice. He tried to make gold coins wooden, and they'd vanished before his eyes. Nothing had gone right. Not until the day he'd wanted to take Regina a birthday present. He'd fashioned a golden chain for her out of his golden thread, but what to put in the center of it…black had been her color nearly since he'd found the thing, black jewels were difficult to come by and golden thread easy for him. So, out of curiosity, he'd taken the wand, imagined a perfect, large, black diamond that might take his pupil's breath away, and with a flick of his wrist, it was there. Regina had blushed when he'd placed it around her neck, and he'd smiled for an entirely different reason as he'd stumbled onto the trick. It was intent. He couldn't make fire just to make it, but when he aimed the wand at his fire grates in the dead of winter, wanting only to light the castle and warm it, fire had roared to life. When he wanted to boil water so he might melt wax to seal an envelope going to Jefferson, the water boiled perfectly. When he'd observed an old woman in a town square, a baby on her hip, desperate for six eggs but only with three coppers he'd given a flick of his wrist and the money bag and fallen heavy from her with coppers pouring out of it.

Intent was the key to using the wands. For all but one, so long as the things he wanted to do were for good purposes, he could do it. The trouble was that it was the bigger things that he assumed he might need it for, like making a Child of True Love a Savior, and he didn't know yet how to trick the magic into seeing it as a good thing.

The sun was well into the sky when his heart began to race, and an alarm winked through his body. Someone was on the premises. No, not just someone. Robin of Locksley. But it wasn't the fact that he was on the property that surprised him, it was the fact that he was nearly at the front door before he'd realized. How had he managed that? And why was he here? He was supposed to call his name three times, not come to the castle. Sherwood Forest was quite a distance from here. He'd never make it back in time to pay the Sheriff or help Marian. Did he think he'd help him with such a feat? Perhaps he could be convinced if he'd brought him more than one vial of that potion.

He used his magic to take himself back down to his Great Room so that he could set his wand back in its place on display. It was only then that he felt the man standing at his back, watching him. There was magic on him, far more of it than he'd sensed in the tavern, more than the potion would give off. Perhaps he carried on him a charm that allowed him to sneak into these magical places. He was suddenly intensely curious as to what had occurred in that other realm. What had Robin of Locksley gotten himself into?

"I hear fairies get quite nasty when you strip them of their wands."

He turned then, as if he hadn't sensed him there the entire time. "Only if they're still breathing after you've taken it," he muttered menacingly. It was a lie, no more than a joke that only he would understand, but he was interested in Robin's reaction to his potential murder of a fairy.

It was nothing. No reaction whatsoever. Interesting. Did anything frighten him?

He stepped forward then and held out his hand. "I trust you had no problem procuring my potion. Hand it over."

His gaze held steady as his stance shifted. "I don't have it," he admitted. And now it was his turn to measure his reaction, to keep his gaze steady as he worked to understand these words. Didn't have it? He reeked of magic! How could he not have it? "The Wicked Witch proved…too powerful," he stated with a sad sigh.

He smiled as Robin let out that sigh. Oh, he was good, very good at what he did, but he couldn't tell a lie. He wasn't committed to it, he didn't believe in it enough, and so he overacted it. The sigh had given him away. Whatever had happened in Oz…that wasn't it. And as for his potion, did that lie mean that he had it hidden away somewhere or truly not at all?

He let out a loud giggle as he advanced further on his own. "Oh, I see! Didn't anyone ever tell you that lying to the Dark One is a futile practice, dearie?"

Well, Robin was an interesting one, wasn't he? A threat like he'd just issued normally would have had people shaking in their boots. Their eyes would have widened. They might have shifted their weight or taken a step back. Robin stood stoically before him. He barely blinked an eye. Interesting.

"You really didn't get the potion…" he growled, advancing once more. There it was again, the slight shifting of his feet and the smallest uncomfortable shrug. He spoke no words, but it was enough to paint a picture for him. He'd been telling the truth when he said he didn't have it before, but the bit about Zelena being too power as well as not getting it had been a lie. From there it was easy to put together a theory. He'd gone, he'd gotten the potion, but as to where the potion was now, it was not with him. So where was it? Anger swelled inside of him as he considered the potion he'd given him to get to Oz. It was the most valuable potion he had, and he'd chosen him because he knew he could get it. He'd cost him dearly. He clicked his tongue against his teeth as he began to circle the poor thief.

"This is not going to end well for you, dearie. No potion means no gold. And no gold means no tavern. And no tavern means debtors prison for you, and no happy wife to share your life with."

Robin nodded and then swallowed so hard he could see his throat move up and down. "I'm aware of the consequences," he answered before setting his stance and standing up tall.

"Then you are much more foolish than I thought you were."

"You may think me a fool, but at least I'm an honorable one. I'm prepared to face my fate."

His fate…for taking his most valuable potion and giving him nothing in return? He figured living out the rest of his life as a leach in Sherwood Forest would be a good start…

But as he raised his hand to snap his fingers and transform the parasite, the Seer intervened. He saw a flash, a vision of the future.

_In it was Robin, he was standing in a room, a burgundy wall, unfeeling pictures hung from it, it was bland and sterile. He couldn't see himself in the vision, but he could feel himself. His chest felt wrong. It wasn't painful, it just felt…odd. Like he didn't have enough air in his lungs and was struggling to breath. He hadn't felt like that since he was a child racing out on the ice. In the vision, he wasn't standing up, but rather laying down and wearing something lose and humiliating. But there, in front of him, at his bedside, was a familiar face. Robin of Locksley. He looked at him and then, suddenly something was presented to him on a white table. It was a vial of some kind with a small heart at the top of it. Inside was a reddish liquid._

_"Good riddance Rumpelstiltskin," he stated with a clenched jaw, "our dealings are done."_

Before he could find out what happened next, the vision changed.

_There was Robin again, in a different room, a room clearly the opposite of what he'd seen before; it was warm and cozy, it had the feeling of home to it. But it also had a foggy haze to it that told him he wasn't there when this vision took place, only that he was seeing it as an outsider._

_He watched as Robin ran a hand over the lion tattoo on his wrist tenderly, and an image of Regina appeared beside him. They were wearing clothes not of this realm but of the realm he'd come to realize would one day be the one they occupied when his curse was cast._

_"He will be her heart," the voice of the Seer whispered into his mind before he watched Regina lean forward to kiss him, a kiss which he returned just as passionately. A kiss that did not belong to his Maid Marian._

When he came out of it, and his Great Room and Robin of Locksley came back into focus. Barely a second had passed though it felt as though it had been minutes. Though his mouth was dry, and he'd drawn a loud breath, he was certain Robin had no idea anything beyond thinking of his punishment had just taken place.

Punishment. Oh, how he wanted to punish him for taking such a valuable tool from him! He'd used Jefferson's potion, and there was no getting it back! But if what he'd seen had any meaning at all, it was possible that the boy could potentially become a valuable tool in the future as well. Regina's heart…not Danial, not her father, but Robin of Locksley. That would be entertaining.

His hand was still raised as he stared at Robin before him, he felt the magic gathered in his arm and knew he need only snap to turn him into a leach…instead he pointed at the front door and focused his magic to force it open.

"Get out of my castle," he growled at him. He didn't wait, the boy before him offered a quick sigh and quickly turned on his heel to run back to his little village. It was only then that he remembered he'd never make it there without a bit of magical assistance. That hadn't been part of the deal, and yet if he had the feeling that if he didn't help him in this way, it would be bad for them both. "And know this!" he called out, stopping him at the door. "If I ever see your face in here again, you'll be a dead fool."

With a snap of his fingers, Robin was gone, back to Locksley were he belonged. What had he left him with? Nothing.

He let out a great roar as he grabbed a goblet off his table and hurled it into the fire. The alcohol made it explode into the kind of fireball he'd yet to get out of the fairy wand. He would have been happy to toss more, but there was nothing left to throw unless he wanted to sacrifice something from his collection. He wasn't interested in such a thing and instead hunched himself over his table, his fingers holding so tightly to the wood he could hear it crack beneath his fingers.

Nothing.

He'd gotten nothing out of this deal and given away everything! It was the risk in deal-making, there was always some gamble to it, and today he'd lost.

Or had he?

Was that a thought? Or was it an urge? A reassurance from a voice that didn't want to be named? As if in answer, his memory played back the vision the Seer had given to him. He saw the strange room all over again, heard Robin's "Good riddance" once more, but this time his mind zeroed in on what he'd set down on the little table before him. The Elixir. It had to be. Red liquid, vial with a small heart on it…what else could it be? Besides, just remembering that image made something inside of him jump, it made something inside of him rejoice and spread calm back throughout his body. _"Good riddance, Rumpelstiltskin, our dealings are done."_

Yes. Perhaps their dealings would be done, one day, but not today. And until that moment came, he had work to do.

He stood up straight and took a deep breath as he focused on that small happy thought inside of him, the Dark One that didn't want to give voice to his fears.

"We'll get our hands on it someday," he muttered to whichever former Dark One was desperate for him to have that cure. "For now, you'll have to settle for that. Now leave me to my work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot entirely take credit for this scene. It showed up on twitter, I believe, only days after 4x17 aired. A&E explained it was a deleted scene. That it was shot and then they realized that they couldn't use it because the wand Rumple has in it is the wand the Gold Fairy had and it didn't fit with the timeline. And they're right. We later learn that Rumple killing the Gold Fairy comes after Snow and David are already married and remember this has to be before they even meet so they couldn't air this scene. But here's the thing. This is in season 4. Robin steals the wand in 2. The cat is already out of the bag, so instead of attempting to explain it, they just ignore it. Which is a shame, because really this scene opens the door for Robin to see the wand and tells you how he'll know a little later to break in and get it from the castle. So, Rumple finding the wands on the gypsy was really done as an attempt at explaining it in my mind. His original vision shows six wands. He takes seven from the gypsy and recognizes that five of them are from the vision of the six wands. That leaves one as the Black Fairy Wand. And this one which will later be stolen. And yes, I know and you know that this prop is the same prop used in season 2 and is the same prop used for the Gold Fairy's wand. But you know what, we never saw a close up of them so for all we know they look similar but are two different wands. It's not perfect, but I can live with it. So...are we good?
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I do hope you like some of the little things about this one that I built in for later. Robin being able to sneak onto the grounds undetected is important for the future, obviously. But there is also that extra magic around him for good reason. It's not only the charm but also the bow, that'll be important later. And then, of course you get a little bit of OutlawQueen in this as well, or at the very least you get a hint of it. This chapter presented us with some great opportunities, but I suppose it's really the next chapter some of you are dying for. Up next we have the first appearance of a very, very important character...the one, the only-Belle. That's right, she's in the next chapter! But you'll note that I only said "appearance". So, in what capacity will she appear? You'll have to read to find out. I do love the chapter but I have some confidence it'll cause a little bit of controversy. So all I ask is that you'll read it and hear me out for why I did some things I did. On to the next! Peace and Happy Reading!


	81. Unfamiliar Familiar Sensations

The bird came in through the window of his tower and landed on top of his Great Wheel. A white dove. For a moment, he'd paused, thinking that it might have been Theseus or one of his descendants until the creature held out its leg. There was something tied to it, a note, and not an ounce of magic clung to the bird. It wasn't a shapeshifter, this was merely some kind of communication he hadn't received in the past. He gathered the bird in his hands and pulled the message free. The second it was off so was the bird, it soared right out the window and off into the distance without waiting for a response. He rolled his eyes at the stupidity of such a thing before opening the note before him and reading.

The letter was formal and sealed with an official mark of the King. King Maurice. He'd been expecting a request from King Maurice and his wife of late, for he was well aware that in the last few years ogres had invaded their land and the war they were fighting against them was a losing one, as most wars against the ogres were. He was rather famous for his defeat of ogres and figured they'd write to him sooner or later to dispatch of the problem for them. With that in mind, he read the request but quickly discovered it wasn't what he thought it was.

The request was not that he get the ogres out of his village but rather that he help the King's daughter, the princess. It seemed that days ago, the ogres had stormed the castle and trapped the King's wife, Collette, and his beloved daughter Belle in the library. Collette had been killed, the daughter had witnessed it, and it appeared that she had lost her mind because of it. The brutality of the incident had been too much for her to handle, she'd been ranting and raving ever since, unable to be calmed. They were keeping her sedated with a sleeping draught, but every time they tried to bring her out, she simply mumbled something unintelligible all over again.

Something unintelligible…he snickered. Considering she was a princess he couldn't imagine that "something unintelligible" was out of the ordinary. In his experience, most of the princesses he'd met had very little to say beyond talking about dancing, table settings, or dresses. Nevertheless, the King's request was a simple one. If the incident in the library was what caused it, then removing those memories would reset her mind. They could erase the terrors she'd seen, tell her of her mother's death, and she'd be free to attend the funeral in just a few short days. There wasn't time to waste.

He scrawled out a quick response on the back of the paper, telling the King he'd be there in only an hour time, just at nightfall, and they should prepare for his arrival, then he snapped his finger and watched as sparks rose up from the paper before it disappeared. It would reappear somewhere the King would see it. From the cupboard, he fetched his potion, the one that he would need, the very elixir he'd once given to his Baelfire after the Beowulf incident, then sat down to whittle away the hour in front of his wheel. He could've gone at that moment, but why spoil the surprise. He preferred to make the King wait.

When the moment finally arrived. He summoned his crystal ball to him and called forth an image of the King waiting for him alone in a room. He was sitting by the fire in a chair, his cheek in his hand as he stared unseeing into the flames. He could watch more, but he didn't need more than that. He set the ball aside, pictured the King, and the next second the King had started, was jumping out of his chair at his sudden appearance.

"Not the entrance you were expecting?" he questioned with a laugh.

The King took several deep breaths before swallowing hard and stepping a little closer. "Dark One?"

"Well, who else would I be? The Tooth Fairy?"

"Rump…Rump…Rumple-"

"Save yourself the trouble," he announced before dipping down into a bow. "Rumpelstiltskin," he stated formally. "At your service, my Liege."

"Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Well, your letter did stress it was of some importance. A funeral, I believe, is on the horizon for you."

"Yes, for…for…for the Queen, my wife," he choked out before turning away and looking at the fire. His lips were pressed together so it made a tight line and he watched as tears rolled down his cheeks at just the mention of her name. How interesting, a royal pair that actually cared about one another. True love? Possibly. That would be a most interesting thing to study up close, before he had to witness it with Snow White and James. What, he pondered, would the King be willing to do to save his daughter? And speaking of daughter…

"Yes…my condolences," he smiled cheerfully. "Where is the patient?"

The King took a breath to get his emotions tapped down once more, then looked at him and made a silent gesture across the room.

Ah…he hadn't noticed they were in the girl's bedroom. With the bed behind him and the girl asleep, probably from the sleeping draught, he hadn't noticed her. The lack of light didn't help either.

"Well, well, well…" he muttered, wandering over to her. He picked up her wrist and dropped it back down onto the bed. She barely twitched. "She's asleep…how much have you given her."

"Far more than is safe," he answered. "But it was the only way to calm her. She's been in a state of shock since the incident."

"Well, if you were attacked by ogres, I imagine you'd be the same."

"Not Belle, not my daughter, she's strong, and smart, this has destroyed her. Please, she can't live like this. I fear that if you can't help her…memories of her and her mother are all I'll have left."

Memories…

"Funny thing you should mention memories. I wonder, would you be willing to trade one for the other?"

"What?"

"Memories of the past, for memories in the future," he elaborated. "Allow me to shine a bit of light on the subject…" With a snap of his finger's every candle inside the girl's room flickered to life and brightened the once dark and shadowy room. Though his night vision was excellent, it allowed him to see the girl and the King perfectly for the first time. His eyes were swollen, his cheeks red as if he hadn't stopped crying. And the girl…she was beautiful. Most princesses were, of course, it came from years of being kept indoors and never actually having to work or worry their pretty little heads, but this girl's beauty was…exceptional. It was probably just the way she was now; laying in bed, picture-perfect, her head slanted to the side ever so slightly as she slept. The only flaw he saw was a mark on her arm; something tended to by a doctor.

"You see Maurice-may I call you Maurice, or would you prefer Your Majesty?" he questioned advancing on the King. "You see, Maurice, all magic comes with a price. Your daughter can be cured, but the cost of the magic is high. For the removal of those dreadful memories tormenting your beloved daughter, I will take not gold or jewels, but rather all the memories of your dearest love."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, for him to realize what he was talking about, for the smallest of moments his eyes went hazy as he thought it through and then cleared as his jaw dropped open with understanding.

"Collette?" he realized with a gasp. "You'd take my memories of her?"

"Isn't that what I've been explaining?"

"No!" he roared before glancing, to the closed door and then looking back at him. "No! There must be something else!"

"But there isn't, dearie!" he answered. "He who has the cure, makes the prices, and that is my price."

"I have gold and jewels."

"None that you can afford to lose should you wish to retain the small hope that you can win this war."

"I have palaces at my disposal."

"So do I! What I don't have are the memories of you and your wife, and what you don't have is a daughter that can recite the alphabet without becoming a ranting mess of panicked tears. It's one for the other-memories of your past in exchange for memories of the future with your daughter. The choice is yours."

Maurice collapsed into the little chair he'd been sitting in before, his hands palm to palm against his mouth so that he looked like he was praying. He resisted the urge to snicker. Prayers wouldn't help him. Not now that he'd been summoned. He could release him, of course, choose to not take the deal, but then he'd be left with nothing. He expected the answer the King gave before he said it.

"Collette always warned me against calling for your help," he spat out the side of his mouth, not bothering to look him in the eye. "She always did say that you were more trouble than you were worth."

"Well then how convenient for me that with one word, all those warnings and conversations will be gone from your memory."

The King took a deep breath at his words. He'd been a widow once, he could imagine that they would have stung, but the beauty of this was that in a few short moments, they wouldn't anymore. The only concern he'd have would be the war and his daughter.

Like clockwork, after a few seconds ticked by, he rose to his feet and faced him.

"Will it hurt?"

He smiled at the King's acceptance. He'd said "will" not "would". That sounded like a deal to him.

"Oh no…not at all," he growled in a sinister voice as he circled the King. "'Tis as simple as remembering the magic words. Now what were they? Beluga…Sevruga…" Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "Close enough."

He waved his hands, and the lights that he'd lit only a few moments ago doused so that the only light in the tower came from the fireplace. It flared, growing to three times its original size as the King stared frozen in fear at it. He only beamed as the rope-like hands formed from the fire before his eyes. It was probably the closest the King would ever come to knowing what his daughter had felt like in the library that day.

Unable to move from the spell he'd cast the hands advanced on him, one held him around his back as the other appeared to reached into his right ear. He glowed like a lantern. With his jaw hanging open, light came from his mouth, his nose, his eyes, his other ear…until the hand pulled free. The arms released him, and as the fire shrank back down into the grate where it belonged, one of the hands set a small rock, white with gold, into his hands. The lights in the room relit, and Maurice collapsed into the chair while he looked over his prize for a moment, then pocketed it.

"How are we feeling?" he questioned, turning his attention back to the King and his daughter. She hadn't moved, he now looked nearly as pale as she did and far more clammy. "Bit peaky, I would guess but also far less of that heartache you had a moment ago. Hard to mourn someone you can't remember." He said it on purpose just to see his response.

The one he gave was appropriate. There was no response. Maurice was quiet, his eyes roaming over the room as he put his hand to his heart. It was as if he was searching for the emotions he'd had when he first entered the room but came up empty. That was good. It meant the spell had worked. At least until he looked at his daughter lying in bed. All at once, emotion flooded back into his mind, desperation and panic as he sat on the edge of his seat and cried out, "help her!"

"A deal is a deal," he muttered, pulling from his pocket the vial of clear memory tonic.

"That's it?!" he questioned. "All my memories for a single vial."

"Oh, no, no, no, dearie! All your memories for four drops of what is in this vial."

"Four drops!" he howled in anger. He supposed it might seem unfair, but he was nearly certain they'd been down this road just a few moments ago when he was a grieving widower.

"Four drops!" he confirmed as he pulled the cork out and went rummaging around in his pocket for the dropper. "Memory potion will wipe the mind of memories but is tricky stuff. Too much and she'll forget her childhood, too little and she might just remember this conversation we've had. Four drops should be sufficient, unless of course you'd rather not and we could leave her as-"

"No!" Maurice shouted only to have his eyes once more drag back to the door. There must have been a guard there, someone he was afraid of overhearing all this. For the words that always came after were softer and gentler. "No. Do what needs to be done to save her."

He nodded and put the stopper to the vial on the girl's bedside table next to a small stack of books. Odd for a princess. Dropper ready, he sat down on the bed beside her and moved her slacked head toward him…

And then froze.

He could have sworn his heart stopped for a moment, that all of time stopped with it. He might have suspected it was the Dark One warning him of his heart again, but then there was something flashing through his mind. Something was important about this, about this moment.

No, not the moment.

The girl. The girl was important.

To him? To Baelfire? To them both?

No! It was important and important moment, but there was something more that even that.

Familiarity.

She was familiar. Her hair? Her hair was familiar.

It didn't sound right, but something about this situation was right. It was the complete opposite of the feeling he had when he sensed that something wrong.

Something was right.

About her hair.

About her angle.

About sitting beside her.

About her being asleep.

What was it?! What was important about that?

He searched his mind, his heart raced as he tried to find the solution to this mystery. But the Seer was being unusually silent for a moment like this. Typically a feeling like this meant that she was trying to tell him something, whispering in his ear. Instead, all he felt was the shudder from all the Dark Ones who had come before. What had them so edge? Why was the Seer quiet? What was he missing?

Who was the King's daughter really?

"Is there a problem?"

Maurice's voice called to him, pulling him out of his thoughts and bringing her face back into focus. Was there a problem? No. No problem at all, not with her. And he supposed that was, in fact the problem. How could something so odd feel so familiar?

"How long ago was the attack?" he asked.

"Almost two days ago."

"Hm…only three drops then," he muttered, coming up with a quick excuse for his hesitation. He couldn't forgot the feeling. He tried. He tried to pushed it out of his mind and tried to ignore it as he used the dropper to suck a bit of the potion out of his vial. But he felt it tingling in his skin as he worked. Focus, he needed focus as he delicately pulled her jaw open and dropped three of the drops on her tongue.

That was that. He let her mouth fall closed and moved away from her as gracefully as possible despite the fact that he felt like she was on fire and wanted away from her. She didn't move or respond at all, but in the morning, so long as they didn't give her any more, the sleeping draught would wear off, she'd wake, and go back to the way she had been before the attack. She'd adjust to the death of her mother and go back to reading…

He glanced at the books she had stacked on her bedside table as he collected the cork. _La Belle et La Bete, A History of Disenfranchised Kingdoms,_ and a book written in what appeared to be a fairy language, not even he could read. Clever girl. Not what he expected for a Princess.

"That's it? That's all it takes?" Maurice begged as he sealed the bottle. He took one final glance at her sleeping form and swallowed. What an odd feeling to leave him so breathless...

"That's all," he confirmed, pocketing his potion and turning back to the King. "In the morning, your girl will wake up the girl she was before all this happened. Personally, I'd break the bad news to her about her mother gently."

"Oh, thank you," he sighed.

"No thanks necessary," he added forcing the smile back on his face. Whatever she was, however she was supposed to be important, it had disarmed him. The personality he'd spent over a hundred years constructing had slipped suddenly. And he felt like he was desperately trying to fix it back where it had been at the beginning of this meeting. "That's the deal we've made unless you wish to discuss another…."

"Another deal…haven't you taken enough?!"

"That's relative," he dismissed, feeling more himself with every word and every step he took away from that bed. "For the right price, I could take these ogres from your lands. I've done it before, you know. I ended an ogre war practically overnight." He took a step closer to Maurice and put his fingertips together. "I might be willing to do it again."

There was silence between them as Maurice stared at him. His jaw was set, and the swelling that had been in his eyes when he'd first arrived was going down so that he was nothing like the grieving man he'd first encountered. That was fascinating to him. He had removed from his memories, arguably, one of the most profound influences in his life. What did that do to a person? Judging by this reaction, he'd taken a fair amount of his ability to consider his options and replaced him with something harder.

"For the right price," the King commented after a moment, an accusation coming through in his tone.

"All magic comes with a price," he smiled, taking another step away from his daughter. He felt better every second, more like himself. He could feel no magic on the girl but...what power she had!

"Get out," the King ordered quietly, intensely. "I may not remember what I'm missing thanks to you, but I know enough to know I never wish to see you standing at my door again."

He nodded. For just a second he wanted to look back over his shoulder at the girl, he wanted to discover what she was, what she meant to his future, what he meant for Bae's future. But he resisted. He'd figure it out, one way or another he'd come to know why she gave him the feeling he did. Even if the requirement was that he never see him standing at his door again.

"Very well," he muttered before disappearing from his sight without glancing back over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that! You made it Rumbellers, to the first appearance of Belle! I told you it would be a while, but you stuck it out and now we've got our girl in the story...kinda. And look at that, I'm sure it's going to come with its own little controversy and there will be people asking why I had to make Rumple the guy that took Maurice's memories, but truth be told I've had this idea for Belle and Maurice ever since I wrote Moments Lost. If you go back and check you'll see a wizard that comes to see Belle to heal her mind and takes her father's memories in exchange is finally the answer she spends most of the fiction looking for. In my mind, that wizard was always Rumple, Maurice just never tells Belle his name, something I'm sure he regrets when Rumple shows up for Belle later. In my mind, who else was ever going to make a deal like that other than Rumple? Here though, you can see, I made sure to mention he's not doing it just for the hell of it. He thinks he can study the memories and learn a little bit about true love before Snow meets David. Will it happen? We'll have to find out next. But, while we're on this subject, (because I did think this through a LOT!) Belle's my girl, I spent eight years writing her story from beginning to end, I know her and I know that there are a few who are realizing that Rumple never told Belle about this in Moments. My explanation for that, painful as it is: "water under the bridge". No, I never had him tell her this in Moments, partly because they were always too busy, partly because while I knew it was going to happen I hadn't written Rumple's side or this chapter yet and didn't want to say something I'd have to go back and edit, but ultimately it was because it didn't matter in Rumple's mind. He has Maurice's memories, yes, but later (if I can stick with this long enough) a lot later, I have plans for those memories. He's going to do something for Maurice that really will make this event something that doesn't have any bearing on Belle or their marriage so he just doesn't see the point in telling her. But, as I said, that's a ways off for us! Like...years.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I hope you'll find this one to be informative and maybe even answer some questions for you. I wrote it this way because I wanted to see motivation from Rumple. Before he asks for Belle, he's never asked for a person before in his deals. And even though we know that at one point he did have a maid, we know it's been several decades since then. Plus, it's not show-canon but Chronicles canon, if you've been reading from the beginning you know there are reasons he stopped getting maids. So I needed to see why, after years of dealing in objects and avoiding people, he'd suddenly say "I want Belle". This chapter does that in my opinion. Now, fun story, I've had this chapter written for a long while, but I was talking with RolfB about this chapter when I hinted it was only going to be an "appearance" and she nailed it, correctly assessed it was going to be a situation where he saw Belle in some way, recognized she was important, and without details decided he wanted to keep her close. (Did that need a spoiler alert?) However, she then asked if I took that storyline from a con answer RC had recently given. At my confusion, she sent me a video. Apparently, in Paris, at a con where RC and EDR were guests and took questions, someone asked RC why Rumple wanted Belle. His answer? Rumple probably saw her somewhere, decided he wanted her, and decided to take her in a deal. I swear, I had no idea that it had been stated. This chapter is in no way based off that answer, it was written well before that event happened, you will just have to take my word for it. However, while there are differences between RC's answer and my scenario (I wanted to be vague because I do think if Rumple knew she was going to be his TL he would have avoided her at all costs and NOT taken her), I was very giddy to get that news because I felt like I was really on to something and it wasn't just me that thought it. Were you in that category too? Let me know! Peace and Happy Reading!


	82. Random Important Details

He was going to have a visitor in the very near future, a visitor he hadn't counted on. Truly, what was it with the Arendelle royal family that they thought he could solve all their woes?! Or perhaps he should just say "woe" as he felt certain the problem she was having was the same problem her mother had and her mother's sister before that!

Still, it was merely an accident that he'd learned Princess Anna was on her way. Sometimes, when he got board, he liked to do what he called "the rounds". He used his mirror, his crystal ball, the cauldron, anything he had on hand really to look in on all the important players in his little game…and some of the unimportant ones as well.

He always started with Regina, always looked in on what she was doing, and sometimes looked away quickly. On the days she happened to be enjoying the pleasures of her captive hunter he simply rolled his eyes and made the image disappear. He was the Dark One, not a voyeur. And that was how the mirror he and Regina used to communicate had found its way down into the Great Room and not stayed up in his workshop. He covered it with a blanket and forgot all about her when he needed to. And when he wanted to speak with her, it was as simple as removing the blanket. It was fine with him. At this point, instinct had finally taken over in Regina, and she needed him less and less as she grew colder and colder and colder. She preferred to learn on her own and so long as she continued to advance, he had no problem with allowing her.

It used to be that after Regina he'd check on her step-daughter, but lately he'd taken to looking in on King Maurice's daughter first. It just a curiosity, to see how she was healing, he told himself. The answer was not well. Her memories of the night the ogres attacked were gone, but he could tell she was agitated and studying something or other her father didn't approve of in between dodging a black-haired man who he'd come to learn was her fiancé Gaston, the eldest son of a powerful neighboring Lord with a powerful army. No doubt, her father thought the match would earn him extra soldiers to fight his useless war against the ogres. He usually couldn't bear to look in on the girl after Gaston came into the picture, even a black-hearted villain like himself could see she didn't have the same kind of interest in him that he had in her. And besides, the interest he had in her…he wasn't convinced it was the right kind of interest. When he watched their exchanges, he had a feeling in his stomach like something was gnawing at him, and it made him look away in despair. It was all part of the mystery she presented, and it was the way he had yet to solve that mystery. Why that girl was important, he hadn't figured out yet, but he needed to soon so that he could let her live whatever life she was going to have and move on with his own.

After Belle, he looked in on Snow White, still hiding out with Red Riding Hood and Granny, still selling what she could to gather a bit of money and working on her archery. There was usually not much to see with her. The most exciting thing to happen to her had been accidentally stumbling upon David when she'd gotten into a bit of a scrape. He'd watched that encounter, wondering what would come of it and if he should intervene. But eventually, the meeting had ended, and nothing had resulted other than one brief exchange in which they'd never really seen their faces. She'd concluded her business and gone back to stay with Granny and Red. The duo, who were rarely ever apart, were currently out in the woods. Nothing interesting.

On he moved to his next interest, who would eventually be Snow White's interest, James. Unfortunately, there was nothing new with James either. He was busy wielding a sword at the moment, not for his life, but it appeared he was doing it for demonstration in front of some of his father's peers. There was no excitement to be had there.

He didn't usually look in on David, but bored by one brother, he decided to take a peek at what the other was amounting to…and was shocked to find he had a sword in his hand as well. For a moment, he wondered if his magic had failed, and he was just seeing past images of James, but James had never had his hair that long. Nor would he ever have worn clothes like that. It was David, the shepherd, holding the sword and training as if he was a soldier. He'd given up on the mirror and changed over to the crystal ball which showed him flashes of Bo Peep, the warlord who had been making quite the pink spectacle of herself for the last couple of years. What was she up to now? What did this have to do with David and…another girl?

No, not a girl, at least not just any girl. For the second the image in the Crystal Ball returned to David and a woman teaching him to sword fight, the Seer put image after image in his head of that girl with people he recognized.

_Smiling faces, hugs, kisses, warm embraces…Elsa, Gerda, the King of Arendelle._

The girl was none other than Princess Anna. It had to be.

"What does she want in this land?"

He'd muttered the question out of curiosity, but his power naturally pushed itself into the crystal ball, and the image changed to a scene long ago of himself talking to Gerda as her husband stayed frozen as a statue in the room. That message was clear enough…she wanted to know about her parent's visit. A curious thing indeed. If she wanted to know about her parents, what was she doing with one of the twins?

With a snap of his fingers and a cloud of smoke, he summoned before him a familiar man, richly dressed, but obviously unhappy with the way he'd been brought to him.

"Theseus…"

"Dark One…have you never heard of sending a letter? Coming to call? Perhaps even just leaving some small little hint that you are about to need assistance-"

"I never _need_ assistance!" he corrected quickly. "Only desire it and take advantage of those who owe me debts. Oh! What luck…that would be you!"

"What do you want?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"A good pair of eyes and ears. I'll send you to a certain place, and it is my desire that you watch this man…" he waved his hand over a cauldron and pulled an image of the long-haired David up before him.

"Is that...George's boy?" the dove questioned, staring at the image.

He felt rocks fall into the pit of his stomach. Sometimes he forgot just how connected all these royal families were. Sometimes he forgot that Theseus was now one of them, and not just the little peasant boy in love with a woman who had bad luck. Oh, how the two of them had grown.

"Long hair and peasant's clothes? You think Prince James would ever be caught dead in that way? You think King George would ever let him?!" he covered.

Theseus shrugged as he continued to stare into the cauldron. "No, but...striking resemblance. It's uncanny."

"Well, perhaps it'll help remind you who to look for. Aside from the shepherd boy I also want you to pay close attention to..." with another wave of his hand the images of Anna and Bo appeared David's place, "these women. I want to know what they're up to."

"And your magic isn't good enough for that."

"Some things are better watched in person…or bird in your case." He tossed him a vial of potion that he'd summoned into his hand then. "Destroy this after everyone has gone off to bed tonight, it'll bring you back to me with all that lovely information!"

A twitch of his finger and he was gone, off on his mission, spying as he watched the pair battle through the crystal ball battle and talk. Perhaps Theseus would come back with useful information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we enter into the 4x02 chapters and there are more of them than you think because we have to take a little...side trip. This one is my fault. It's because I added Theseus and Mary as characters and now so much time has passed and...well...I'll let you discover it for yourself. But I will say I was not pleased with the division of these chapters so we all know going in that these weren't ideal but one way or another the point got across.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I'm so glad we all enjoyed the first appearance of Belle and now...well...would you look at that, here she is again. The nice thing about Rumple not having any answers that he is able to start getting curious about her and that means he'd going to be watching her like he watches the others. And early on we can already see a pattern with that beginning to emerge. He's not looking in on her because he's interested, oh no, never, of course not. It's just a curiosity, right? He's just curious about how she's healing is all. Isn't it? Mmm, sounds a lot to me like that time Rumple really did enjoy having Jefferson around, but never did want to tell him, wouldn't you say? Peace and Happy Reading!


	83. The Price of Loyalty

"He's taking a stand!" Theseus squawked when he reappeared in his Tower hours later. And what a two hours they had been. For not five minutes before Theseus had appeared back in his tower, warning bells began to go off in his own mind. Not because someone was on his property, but because someone had broken a protection barrier he had established. He'd promised not to remove the urn or free Ingrid from the urn her sister had placed her in, but the very day after she'd told him where it was, he'd gone to place protection spells over it so he would know when the day came that someone did remove the urn he could fetch it back. And so it seemed someone finally had found it. Was it a coincidence that it had happened while Anna of Arendelle had just appeared in David's life? He doubted that.

He used the crystal ball to watch the scene play out. He saw two people at the place that he'd found the urn. One, the man, was dressed for cold weather and climbing, the other, a woman was the opposite, dressed in light blue. Her face was familiar, but only just. He'd never met the woman, but he'd seen it in a vision when her mother had come seeking help, and he'd learned the location of that urn. He watched as they removed it from its place, an action that meant he could take it again. His promise was not to remove it, that's why he'd set the enchantments about it, so that he could keep track of it without touching it. His deal was done. He could go back! But two Princesses from Arendelle, arriving at his home at the same time…what were the chances? Unfortunately, Theseus barged in before he could see much more.

"He?" he questioned as if he didn't know. "He who?"

"The man, David, he's preparing to challenge Bo Peep; take a stand!"

"Ah-h-h-h!" he snarled in his direction. If there was one thing he hated it was an overexcited bird who didn't know how to deliver news. He'd been doing his best to watch David and Anna of Arendelle before the urn had been stolen, but they'd gone very few places that had mirrors, staying mostly outside during their conversations, and with a barn made of wood offering few reflections for him to use, and without the sound of the crystal ball, he was in the dark. He needed information. David's brother was possibly the most important piece in the puzzle of getting back to his son. He had to know everything about his family because one day, anything could serve as a chess piece. With Theseus out keeping an eye on the situation, and James safely tucked away, he'd gone about his business, keeping an eye on his crystal ball when he thought to. He'd watched as Anna and David had parted hours ago, just before sunset. What had taken Theseus so long to return with news?

"From what I gather, Bo Peep, the warlord came by to extract payment from the family, they couldn't pay so she branded them, gave them until tomorrow at noon to pay the debt."

Debt. It wasn't a debt that Bo Peep would demand. It was extortion money. That crazy bitch was admirable in a way but not one that he particularly cared for. They both profited from deals with others, but the difference was that his customers benefited from his deals. Bo Peep's deals only profited herself. She didn't own the land Ruth and David lived on, only collected payments from the tenants as if it was rent for "protection". She had started innocently enough. Her mother, and her mother before her, and her mother before her had all been shepherdesses but also clever and smart women. Her great grandmother had been initially given the staff she owned by a fairy as a way to brand and track her flock should a sheep go astray. But during the Ogre Wars, what felt like a lifetime ago, it was her grandmother who had given birth to twelve strong, smart, and hardy boys. She had begun the tradition, during the war when the King couldn't be bothered to care to protect the lowest of his citizens, of hiring out her boys for a small fee. They killed ogres, protected the people, she even branded a few people that had refused to fight, that the King called traitor and sought to destroy, so that if they were ever captured, they could be found and rescued. But the war had ended, one thing led to another during her mother's reign and now they were left with Bo Peep, who still offered protection to the people who paid her, but now it was protection from herself. Refuse to pay for the protection, and her cousins, boys that took after their fathers, came to burn homes down and slaughter animals, taking all the valuables for themselves. And as for the people that couldn't pay, they were branded, captured, and then sold into slavery only to be stolen back when she felt the time was right and sold again for more money. With no home, no source of revenue, and no escape, most went quite willingly.

With no rent to pay the King anymore, Ruth and David had always been able to make the payments, even if it was just barely. But now it seemed they'd finally hit a place where they couldn't afford it. Farming in King George's land was certainly not the prosperous venture it had once been.

"So the family can't pay their debt…and David thinks he's going to extract some kind of vengeance on her, is that it?"

"Not exactly. There is a woman staying with the family, sleeping in their barn, calls herself Joan."

"Joan?" he questioned, wondering if he'd heard right. Joan was a far cry from Anna.

"Joan," he confirmed.

Rumpelstiltskin smiled. A false name. Why was she giving a false name? The mystery grew. "That's not her name."

"No, I've met her before, with my wife. She's Princess Anna of Arendelle, she's engaged to be married, what she's doing out here is a complete mystery. She's not the best at staying tight-lipped, has had a few slip-ups but usually catches herself before she reveals anything too…well…"

"Revealing," he finished.

"Yes," he nodded. "I know she's here to see someone, but I don't know who. She was staying in the family's barn and convinced David to fight Bo Peep. They spent most of their day training with the sword, but…David grew tired, they parted under bad terms and now…Bo Peep has her! She's branded her! Snuck up on her in the barn, took her as prisoner, and confessed that David was training to fight her, that if she took her, then his desire to beat her would only grow. It didn't matter. She took her anyway."

Of course, she had. That woman never could think long term or complex thoughts. She probably hadn't believed what Anna had said but just saw it as some kind of entertaining challenge. He couldn't entirely fault her, the entire thing was very entertaining even to him, and he couldn't watch it for himself first hand. But it was also important. James was safe, but David and Ruth could still prove to be useful to him. They could be useful on the farm or as Bo Peeps slaves as far as he was concerned, she didn't scare him in the least, he could kill her with a snap of his fingers. But he did want to see how it would end. And now, perhaps far more than he cared about what happened to David and Ruth, he wanted to see what became of Anna of Arendelle as well. Why was she here?

"Return," he dismissed, of the bird. "Watch the situation carefully. Tell me how it ends."

"Sir, my family-"

"Can spare you, surely until, what was it, noon tomorrow?!"

"It's our son's birthday."

"And there are plenty more birthday's where that one will come from! You owe me a debt Theseus, for everything you have and everything you are. Your days are growing shorter, and soon I'll come for your son to do the work that you can no longer do."

"No!" he cried! "No! That wasn't part of the deal!"

"Loyalty, was our deal, sir!" he roared back, forcing the man to take a step back. "Loyalty is not a trait that is easily extinguished but passed down throughout families. Just as simply as I crafted you such a good life, I can take it away. Do your job! Go back and be my eyes and ears, and when you return home, make your absence up to your son and explain to him exactly why he's in the situation he now finds himself in! The time has come!"

And with that, he tossed him another clear potion, flicked his wrist once more, and dismissed his servant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let's have a nice little reminder because we talked about this in the very first chapter, but I'm suddenly reminded that the first chapter was eighty-some chapters ago and we need a little refresher, especially with this chapter. What Rumple does with Theseus and now his son...it's mean. There's no two ways about it. It's a mean thing to do. But it's necessary. 1) Because I made a mistake. I initially had plans for Theseus in Storybrooke, but I messed up. The character I initially had him play was young, probably about David and Snow's age. And around this point was when I realized that Theseus has been around since Cora and simply wouldn't be that young anymore. I had to bring his son into the mix to explain that away. But most importantly 2) I don't subscribe to the theory of Villains and Heroes in this series (that characters are either wholly bad or wholly good). Rather, I believe that everyone has at least a little of each in them (except Peter Pan...I hate that guy). So, if you support that theory with me then it means that Rumple is going to do mean things for no reason every once in a while. I may not believe he is 100% an evil character like some people, but I also understand that he'd not 100% good either. He's still the Dark One, Hades says he sent him more souls than anyone, that means that he is going to do bad/mean things sometimes-like he does here. Like it or not, that means something like this is in-character, and if you want to really analyze it, really it's not even being mean for no reason. Most of what Rumple does is for his son. He needs boots on the ground and sometimes he can't be those boots ergo he needs Theseus and his family to get back to his son. Besides, putting it here worked, I felt it egged him on for the chapters to come.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your reviews. Apologies, this chapter and the next seven are the meat of the "frozen arc", and truthfully, I don't like how most of these chapters were divided up. 4x02 and 4x04 had some really awkward scenes, and I did my best with them all, I promise I did, but aside from being...you know...The Frozen Chapters, they all just turned out really short or really long. But, I promise, if you can work with me through these next few chapters, there is a really big, really important surprise waiting at the end for you. The answer to a really BIG question we never saw on the show. Guesses? Peace and Happy Reading!


	84. Future Plans

He hadn't meant to lose his temper with Theseus, but arguing with him had suddenly felt like he was arguing with a child. It was a very odd thing, to look at a man he'd known since he was a boy and see gray hairs shine on his head and yet feel like he was still talking to that same teenaged boy he'd first set up with the lovely Mary all those years ago. And when he added that to the fact that he'd mentioned his son's birthday a spark of jealousy so strong he couldn't fight through it had risen up inside of him. He'd had to cull it somehow, if he couldn't kill the bird, at least he could scream at him. Besides, in truth was that the request he'd made was one that he'd been thinking of for a couple of years now. After all, Theseus was only a little younger than Cora was now, and his son, Pirithous, was about the same age as David. It was no reflection on the work that Theseus had done that he wanted the younger boy. Instead, it was just biology. Shapeshifters lost their ability to shift as they aged, dear Granny had lost hers years ago. Theseus was getting to that age where it was assumed he would take his last shift soon. As his son, Pirithous had inherited the ability from his father. And like so many of his cousins on his father's side, he still had many decades left before the ability left him. If he played his cards right, he would be in the Land Without Magic before that time came. The boy would make a good addition to his arsenal of allies, but only once his father told him what it was he did when he disappeared and what was expected of him. He hadn't meant to bring that up or force his hand at the moment, but the way things had gone between them he found he was rather happy it was finally all out in the open, or would be at least.

For now, Theseus was gone, back to the farm, back to spy on the unlucky twin. And he was left alone in his castle, still trying to figure out a way to keep an eye on everyone. David was simple when he rose, there were enough shiny objects in the house that he'd been able to use his mirror to watch the boy. He went to the kitchen, retrieved a sack, loaded it up with some food that wouldn't spoil, and then left the house, and that was where he'd lost him. There was nothing, nothing that he could see, nothing that could be reflected off. So he turned back to the crystal ball, watching as David took the sack of food out to the barn, said something he couldn't hear, and instead of the Princess of Arendelle came face to face with Bo Peep herself. The pair exchanged words, words that he could not hear. It was terribly frustrating to be the most powerful person in all the realm and still be bound by certain magical laws and spells. He really had to work on crafting a spell that would give the ball sound.

As the pair talked, he was tempted to abandon the idea of Theseus and go watch for himself until Bo Peep left. She left David standing there, holding his sack of food looking both terrified and determined. He stared after the place that she disappeared for a while before suddenly anger took over, and he threw the sack aside and kicked over a barrel. The horse must have whinnied, something distracted him and made him stop as he hunched over a small table and breathed so heavily his back heaved. What he saw next made him reconsider going to watch the confrontation himself all over again...David grabbed a sword.

Within Bo Peep's estate, he got lucky. The frilly War Lord was lying outside, but there was a small hand mirror owned by Bo Peep herself. It wasn't much, but it was something that could keep him abreast of the situation. He wasn't thrilled to catch a glimpse of the ugly old hag's cleavage when he found her admiring a necklace around her neck, probably something that had been stolen, but he was pleased when he heard her mutter "high noon, right on time" and set the mirror aside. Noon was when the payment had been due, he hoped it was David that he was talking to, but the words were low and not clear with her accent. And at the moment, he couldn't see anything beyond the ceiling of the gazebo. Quickly, he turned back to the crystal ball and saw a spectacular feat. David, using a sword, holding his own against the guards. He watched almost proudly. It was inevitable, knowing what the child had come from and how he'd struggled, knowing the very little experience he had this kind of mastery was indeed exquisite. He was certain that if Bo Peep knew his history, even she would have been rooting for him. As it was, she was too busy. The moment that he defeated her two guards, she'd picked a sword up on her own and muttered something he couldn't make out through the mirror. His heart raced as he watched. She was a prim and proper little general, but she hadn't gotten to where she was without learning a thing or two from past generations. She knew how to wield a sword, quite well in fact. She proved it by defeating him easily. In only a few seconds, David was on the ground, pinned against a pillar, his sword tossed from his hand, and her sword pressed close to his face.

And then something triggered in his mind; something panicked that the boy might be killed, that he was still important in some way. Important...it was just like the feeling he'd had with Belle only different. He was about to follow through and go to save him when after a brief exchange, Bo reared back to swing, David rolled, and her sword caught in the wood of the gazebo she'd been lounging in. David retrieved his sword, overpowered the woman, tied her up, and cleverly thought to grab her staff to find Anna, but then stupidly let it fall to the ground once he was convinced he knew where to look. He shook his head as he watched him dash off in the direction of one of her barns. It was a stupid move. Without her staff, she'd have been damn near powerless. As it was, she may never choose to tangle with David and Ruth again, but there were still several others in his town who would continue to be in her thrall because he hadn't taken it with him. He didn't imagine that would go over well when the village found out.

There was a scuffle in the barn. David's new friend had been attempting to hide in the rafters to overpower her captors, but really all she'd overpowered was David, and nearly given him a bump on the head to prove it as they wrestled in the hay.

He nearly dropped his crystal ball as the Seer's voice grabbed hold of him. A vision, triggered by the way she was sitting on the ground! He was going to see her on the ground again...

 _"Pure of heart!"_ the Seer whispered.

_He could see her now, in his head, on the ground just as she was now. She was by his side. They were in a small little house that he didn't recognize. The Princess was crying and he felt himself kneel down to take a single teardrop from her cheek and allow the blade of his dagger to absorb it._

_"Pure of heart!"_ the Seer whispered again. _"She is the key to the box!"_

_In the vision, he turned again and suddenly found himself face to face with trapdoors. He knew where those doors led from Zoso's memory._

_"But the true key is in the box!"_ the Seer screamed.

_Suddenly he found himself looking back at the floor, his dagger was on it. Both the dagger and the floor before him melted away to reveal a hole in the floor and a plain wooden box beneath it._

_"Your answers."_

The vision released him so violently that he found himself falling down into a chair to keep his shaky legs from falling out underneath him. He set his crystal ball aside as he looked around his shop, trying to relive every detail of the vision she'd just given to him, trying to process it. A small house. A tear from Anna on the dagger. A box beneath her body. A set of doors. The key to the box…

He knew where those doors led to. They went to the vault, the vault that years ago Zoso had gone into to retrieve the Sorcerer's Hat. The Sorcerer's Hat, the only thing that could free him from his dagger! Maybe from the laws of magic themselves! No more orders, no more commands, no more worrying about where to hide his greatest triumph and weakness! Freedom. All disguised as a small round box.

And the girl. The key to the box, pure of heart…what had the Apprentice said in Zoso's memory? He closed his eyes and looked back through his own memories to find the right one.

_"No one who has succumbed to the Darkness in their heart can ever break it."_

"It", of course, being the curse that wretched Merlin had placed over it! But the girl, Anna...she was pure of heart. She could break the curse with one tear of purity. It was him. He'd been right. He was the person that she was here to see! She was coming for him. And he had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this seems like it's super unimportant, but this scene actually has really massive implications. I wrote it very carefully and gave this vision it's own chapter because it was that important. Did you catch the hint?
> 
> Thank you so much RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Again, sorry for the shortness of this chapter but trust me when I say that given what comes in the next chapter, it was necessary. These were very clearly two different chapters. Good news is that I promise it should seem like we are flying through the Frozen chapters. They're short, we'll be out of this and on to the interesting part before you know it. Peace and Happy Reading!


	85. Setting the Trap

By the time Theseus returned, he knew what he was going to report to him, what he was going to have to say. The fight with Bo had bought Anna another day. With all the excitement, she was delaying her journey until tomorrow morning. So he sent Theseus home to celebrate his son's birthday, but not without orders. He needed him back first thing in the morning, before daybreak.

"Why?" he'd demanded.

"Because I have another task that needs to be done, just a simple one, but it's good to cut the boy's teeth," he explained. But he could see the Theseus was hesitating, uncomfortable with the idea of what he was asking him. He couldn't blame him, not for trying to be a good father and protecting his son. After all, that was simply what he was trying to do. He could relate to the man easily, though he'd never admit it.

"Theseus…in all the time that we've known one another have I ever asked you to do anything unsavory?"

"Depends on your definition of 'unsavory'."

"Have I ever asked you to do anything unsafe?" he corrected. "Compromising?"

Theseus finally sighed and shook his head. "No," he admitted.

"Then bring your son to me. You have my word that he shall do nothing that you've never done, nothing unsafe, nothing compromising."

"I want it in writing."

"Oh!" he laughed gleefully. "We've learned a thing or two in our time together, haven't we."

"A little, yeah!"

He probably should have been upset, with others, he probably would have figured they were insulting him and had a bit more fun with them. But, probably because he'd known Theseus for so long, he found that instead of being upset, he was proud. He always told himself that he was teaching lessons. It was nice to see that it worked.

And so he produced a contract, a simple one that stated if he ever put Pirithous in a compromising or unsafe situation, the loyalty that was owed would be rescinded, and he would be free of the contract. It was simple, but satisfactory, even if the general idea of it wasn't to Theseus. With another potion in hand, he left and returned the next morning with his son in tow.

Pirithous was bigger than Theseus in every way. He was taller and wider. He was darker than Theseus, blessed with his mother's coloring, and his voice was deeper. The only thing that Theseus could lay claim to that his son could not, was his hair. Pirithous had none. And it made him wonderfully intimidating…but it wouldn't work for this situation.

"How much do you know?" he asked as he mixed a new potion in their presence.

"Everything," Pirithous informed him. "Enough to have contempt for this entire situation."

"Pirithous-"

"No!" he piqued. "Don't chastise the boy. It's a terrible situation you put him in."

"You put him in his situation," he snapped. "You put _me_ in this situation, not my father."

"I did no such thing! T'was he who summoned me to save your mother! And that was the reason that your loving parents met, that you and all your lovely little siblings were born into the wonderfully posh life you are living. So what you should be saying is 'it's my father that's put me in this situation'."

"Pirithous," Theseus warned when the boy opened his mouth. "You'll learn soon enough not to argue. The faster you do what needs to be done, the faster you can go home."

"There, there, listen to your Papa, he is the former you."

Pirithous stared at him, his jaw set, his lips pursed. He could see the child's anger in his eyes, anger that his father never had. Pity. This could have been an amazing relationship, just like he'd had with his father, but he could see this was going to get him nowhere. At least not yet. Even as he looked at him now, he had the feeling that this new deal wasn't a complete loss. He might not be useful now, in this form, but perhaps one day, he would. But first, he was going to do what he needed him to do.

It was a simple potion, one that changed his appearance into a seemingly innocent boy-dirty, pale skin, speech impediment, runny nose. He looked so pathetic that if he didn't know who he really was he would be tempted to help him. He took Pirithous out to the forrest, purposefully leaving Theseus behind in the castle. He didn't trust him already, and though no harm would come to Theseus alone in his castle, he knew that Pirithous would assume leaving him behind was a sinister act. He could behave and do exactly what he told him so that his plan worked perfectly, then he could see his father.

This wasn't "the plan" for dear Anna of Arendelle. This was merely the set up for the plan. While Theseus had been home with his family, explaining the reasons he tended to disappear on a whim and who he was now indebted to, he'd been thinking. He'd translated something very particular in the Seer's vision. There was something assumed in the vision that he'd had, something that went directly against what the Apprentice had said about getting that box.

"Pure of heart," the vision had said.

That was all fine and good for him. But the Apprentice had stated quite clearly to Zoso that no one who had ever succumbed to darkness could break the curse.

Was she pure of heart because she'd never been tempted before? Or pure of heart because she had, and she'd refused? That answer wasn't clear. He didn't have time to interrogate her or comb through her past to figure it out. But he also had the sense not to assume that she was pure of heart because she'd already been tempted. He would have to solve the mystery by himself. So, he'd spent the night coming up with a plan, one that hinged on the trap being set just right.

Pirithous was to find his way to the Apprentice's house on this morning, knock on the door and ask for a bit to eat. If he did it right, he'd cough a bit at just the right time to instill some sympathy. Because the Apprentice had studied under Merlin, he was counting on him being a kind and generous soul, easily tricked by the desperation of a poor boy. When he invited him in for breakfast, he was to give him a potion a very specific and certain potion that he had spent the night working up. It was a simple low-level transformation spell, one that would change the drinker into a harmless mouse.

Oh, he could have done better, he could have chosen to make it a poison and killed the Apprentice, but that wouldn't help him test Anna and get what he needed from her. Besides, Dark Ones had been trying to kill the Apprentice for years, at least five that were willing to admit their defeat to him. He didn't want to kill him, just incapacitate him enough to lower his magic and allow him into his home. The transformation spell would work. In addition, he'd bound it with two other potions, one that dampened magic, making it almost undetectable so that the Apprentice would have to concentrate hard to feel it, and another that would allow the potion to be absorbed into the system. It would take time for the potion to work, a day at least. That would give Anna enough time to arrive, enough time to be confronted with her temptation, and resist or give in, whichever it might be. Either way, he would win in some way. If she did what he expected then he'd get the hat. If she did something unexpected, then the Apprentice would have his magic dulled for several days as he stayed in his mousey form, giving him ample opportunity to explore his home and figure out what to do with him.

It was nearly afternoon by the time Pirithous wandered off to do his first job for him. He stayed behind, waiting for him to return. While he waited, he summoned his crystal ball and watched as Anna departed David's farm. He laughed. What else was he to do when he was about to achieve what so many had failed at?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, yeah, I know. Don't say I didn't warn you. But I am hoping that with the next chapter it'll be clear why this one is so short. It didn't fit with the last chapter, it doesn't fit with the next chapter, there's not really a lot of action going on here, merely a lot of discovery and conjecture. I submit this chapter to you as the quintessential "filler chapter".
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. They were much appreciated. And no one got the big hint that I left for you in it, which makes me really happy because that means you are in for one really nice big surprise a few chapters from now! Until then, the guessing games continue. Theseus and Mary's son, Pirithous, will be the character that appears in Storybrooke as a bit part. We don't see him on screen much, I don't even think we hear him talk when we do, but he's there. Anybody want to take a guess now on who he'll be (or perhaps I should say what role he will play as he wasn't given a real name)? Peace and Happy Reading!


	86. Personality Assessment

When she entered his castle, he was ready for her. Ready for the way that she snuck in around the back. Ready for the way that she thought she was being clever by trying to throw him off and taking him by surprise. But no one surprised him. Ever. And she'd be shocked to find that she was the one who was about to be taken advantage of. Which was why he was ready for her not in his tower, but rather in his Great Room, sitting, patiently waiting for her. He'd watched her through his crystal ball as she made her way into his grounds and through a back door and finally had sighed when she realized she couldn't find her way to him through the halls and winding stairs that always seemed so simple to him. He supposed that was what happened when one lived in the same place for over a hundred years...

"Rumpelstiltskin?" she'd cried out. He watched her yell it in the ball, but he'd heard the voice only because it was so close to him. She was lost, obviously, but if only she'd pursued him a bit longer she would have found her way in just as he figured she'd planned to. "Are you here? The door was open…"

The door was unlocked, it wasn't open, but she'd helped herself anyway. "End of the hall, first door on your right. Come on in, dearie."

"My name is Joan," she explained as he forced the image in the ball away. The last thing she needed to know was just how close of an eye he'd been keeping on her. That crystal ball was one of the secrets of his trade, he didn't know everything in the world, but tools like that helped it seem like he did. Not that anyone needed to know that. "I was hoping you could help me." The girl paused as she finally rounded on him. He'd been sitting with his back to her and now, for the first time, she was finally looking at his face. "Is there something wrong with your skin?" she questioned before looking horrified and confused. "Not that it looks like anything's wrong with your skin. You know, I have a cream..."

"Your name isn't Joan," he interrupted. She stared at him in shocked, but he only chuckled as he rose from his seat to circle her menacingly. She was a rambler. That was valuable information; valuable insight into the princess. It told him she was one of those people that said exactly what she thought before thinking it through, in other words the opposite of what he did. He'd heard that it was possible for opposites to attract but personally he found those kind of people could be terribly annoying. Fortunately for her, they could also be incredibly helpful. Loose lips certainly had their place in his toolbox.

"You see, uh, names are my stock and trade, dearie, and yours is...Anna of Arendelle," he proclaimed. Silence. He loved it when the talkative ones were speechless, when they ran out of things to say and he instead took command of the conversation. Talkative, but easily submissive. More helpful information. "No need to keep secrets from me. I know more about you...than you think," he insisted sneaking closer and whispering it into her ear.

"So…you know why I'm here?"

"You want to know why your parents ventured into this strange land," he pronounced without a bit of hesitation. It was just a guess based off of the image the crystal ball had shown him, but he knew by the look on her face it had been a good one.

"My sister thinks it was because of her, but I know she's wrong. Can you help me?"

Oh…poor, sweet, naïve girl. Wasn't she just the typical Princess; she wanted so badly to believe in the best of everyone. This was going to be fun in more ways than he'd seen. She was only making his job so much easier.

"As it happens, your parents paid me a visit on their journey," he explained. "It would seem when one needs answers, I'm the place to go."

"What answers did they seek?" she chirped with desperate curiosity.

"Well, I can't just tell you, dearie," he smiled. "You see, aside from names, I also have a penchant for making deals."

"A deal? Sure, I'll make a deal. I'll do whatever it takes to help my sister."

He let out a gleeful laugh at her willing words. "Whatever it takes?" Heaven help the pure of heart! "Oh, I love it when they say that."

Into his hands he summoned up a potion, one that would act as an antidote to the potion he'd had Pirithous give to the Apprentice yesterday. It was ironic, he supposed, that this temptation was in reality a rescue mission. But what she was doing wouldn't matter, only what she thought she was doing. And this was the best way to judge for himself just how pure that heart of hers was.

"At the foot of the dark mountains lives a very old man...prickly sort, probably eats children for breakfast. I want you to put this in his tea," he answered handing the small vial over to her.

And that was when he noticed it. The touch of their fingers was barely half a second but it was long enough to sense magic about her. Not in her, not like her aunt or her sister, but on her, around her. It was touching her. Not Elemental Magic, it was something more genuine, something light, something pure.

There!

Around her neck, proudly displayed for him, there was a snowflake necklace. It held power. Power like he'd seen once in the ribbons her Aunt had so carelessly traded for an urn that now sat in the North Valley. How had he missed that when she'd come in? It was so obvious. The magic within it pulsed and called out to him. Now that he saw it he didn't know how she'd been here as long as she had without any hint of it. He wanted that necklace. The Dark One wanted it for his collection, it was a powerful piece of magic! Suddenly it was difficult to keep his eyes on one task. Baelfire, the hat, and the necklace…he wanted them all. The question was how to get them…

"What will it do to him?!" Anna questioned a second later, drawing him back into the conversation. Yes, with it displayed so out in the open she was probably not aware of what she carried, of what was in her possession. He would prefer to keep it that way.

He smiled, happy that she'd asked her question and unsurprised that she had as well. One didn't get to be pure of heart without questioning stupid decisions. He would have been concerned if she didn't ask questions it. He wouldn't have been able to answer in the way that she wanted.

"Sorry, dearie. That's not part of our agreement. Oh, speaking of which...our contract!" With a snap of his fingers he summoned the piece of paper which unfurled before her as well as a quill. He laid it out before her on the table and located the important part. "Sign here, and I shall tell you why your parents came to see me. Do we have a deal?"

She looked the paper over nervously, suddenly lacking the bubbly nature and easy air she'd had earlier. Good. She felt tortured over it. She felt the weight of what he was asking her to do, she felt it was wrong. That was precisely what he needed.

Suddenly she gasped and took a step back as she looked at the vial in her hand. "Nothing…bad will happen…will it?" she asked with a weak smile.

Tortured already. He appreciated it just as much as he appreciated that necklace she wore. He wanted nothing more than to have her out of this place, to get on with what she needed to do, to allow him his options in acquiring that jewelry.

"As I said, that's my business! It's information you don't need to complete your business which is information about your sister. My business for your business…that choice is yours!" He offered with a devilish smile. He was vague on purpose and he knew that she thought she knew why. Nevertheless, the bubbly and naïve, smart but foolish Princess from Arendelle, did exactly as he said. She played perfectly into his hands as she took the quill and signed her name to the contract.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if it isn't entirely obvious at this point, I confess that I'm not a fan of the Frozen episodes. However, I am proud of how the Frozen chapters came out in this fiction. It was a different feeling writing it here rather than for Moments. You know, in Moments, Belle was friends with Anna so it had to have a somewhat positive spin, but in Chronicles what helps is that it's allowed to have a completely different tone. Rumple confesses several times that he doesn't really have a deep love for Anna finds her annoying and mouthy. And of course he certainly won't have a love for the events that follow meeting Anna, so the cool thing about that is that I didn't have to pretend to like it. I could kind of channel the "this is dumb" feeling and found that it made it work really well and I actually enjoy reading these chapters 10x more than watching it just for that reason! Hopefully that came through beautifully here and if you are one of those people who dislike it right along with me, you'll find some joy in relating to Rumple!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for the comments you left on the previous chapter. I'm sorry about the opening to this chapter. Can we all just agree at this point that sometimes there were stupid decisions made? Come on people, why is Anna appearing at the left side of the door when we know the entrance to the castle is on the right? Peace and Happy Reading!


	87. Where No Dark One Tread Before

He knew that she didn't pour the cure into the old man's tea because he'd watched her. As he sat at his table contemplating a way to get that necklace, a deal to make for it, he watched her through the crystal ball. She'd had the perfect opportunity to put the potion into his tea. In fact, he'd watched as she'd wrestled with her decision. But she hadn't done it. Not in the end. Instead she'd gotten cold feet at the last minute, sprinkled it on the fire, had a lovely teatime with the Old Apprentice, before he watched as he pointed her on her way, probably to the nearest village. But instead of following whatever directions he'd given her, she'd returned to the castle with the empty vial…and lied.

She did it intelligently, at least. He expected she would be like so many others who babbled on and on telling some story that they concocted in their heads. Instead, when she returned to him, she told him what was, for the most part, the truth. The lie matched what really had happened all for one little detail. In her tale she poured the potion into the tea, served the old man, then dropped her own cup forcing him to boil more water to serve her all the while he drank his own potion-laced tea.

"How was he when you left him?" he questioned, just to watch her quake and stumble her way through another time.

She paused, her mind trying to figure out how to answer. Should she say he was fine? Should she lie and say he wasn't? She hadn't given the potion to him so how was she to know what, if any symptoms, he was displaying.

"He seemed fine," she reported with an upward inflection in her voice, as if she was trying to get the answer right. Was she telling him or asking him? For the fun of it he furrowed his brows and did his best to look confused at her words. "Maybe…maybe a little groggy…" she added uncertainly. "But he was like that when I got there so it was hard to tell."

All things considered he wasn't surprised, just amused. She was clever enough to know how to lie, but not clever enough to figure out that he would be able to investigate her claims, she wasn't clever enough to get out of her deal. He'd stated it all the way he had for a reason. Curiosity. He'd wanted to see if she could figure out that all she needed to do was slip the potion into his tea and drop it. Their deal never specified that he drink it. It would seem that Anna of Arendelle was a truly complicated person, a version of stupid brilliance that he didn't often see. He could work with that.

"So…" he muttered as he twirled the empty vial between his fingers. "You poured it in the tea?" he questioned again, adding insult to injury. He was trying to trip her, trying to make her think that he was suspicious just to see if she'd give in but he knew she wouldn't. Giving in and telling him the truth wasn't bound to happen here. The Seer hadn't been wrong yet in his life, he didn't expect her to start now.

"Just as you asked!" Anna lied predictably through a smile.

"And he drank it?"

"Every last drop."

"Good!" he chuckled. "Then he'll live!"

She nodded, pleased with herself. "So, now can you tell me why my parents came..." she stopped talking suddenly, a frequent trait of those who spoke before they thought. She'd only just now realized what he'd said. "Wait, what? What do you mean, 'live'?"

"He'll live because he drank the antidote you gave him."

"Antidote? To what?!" she inquired.

"Uh, poison."

"I thought it was poison!"

"No!" he laughed. He was beginning to enjoy this. "The poison's what he drank yesterday! What you had was the cure for that."

Anna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I didn't give it to him," she finally admitted.

"Well, why not," he whined feigning shock, something that should have told her that he knew she'd been faking the entire time. She didn't seem to get it. "We had a deal."

"We need more antidote. We have to go back to the cottage. We have to help him!" she exclaimed.

"Well...I'm afraid it's far too late for that, dearie."

His magic was working, in fact if he had his math right it should have started working the moment she'd walked back into his castle. But of course, she had yet to learn that. He waved his hand over the crystal ball in front of him and summoned forth an image, one that showed his magic doing what it did best.

She leaned in close as they both watched the Apprentice grasp his stomach and begin to cough. The cough soon became a hack and his grip on his stomach had him bending over and falling to the ground. They watched as his spell worked. As the man in front of him shrank down, his form changed and altered. And then, there before him, was exactly what he'd wanted to see for so long. The greatest adversary of the Dark One, the Protector of Merlin's Tower and Treasures, Keeper of the Author's Pen, Guardian of Light Magic-had become a helpless little mouse. Inside he could have sworn he felt a giddiness that came from the other Dark One's cheering him on, celebrating in victory. But one alone was silent and judgmental. Nimue wouldn't give him an ounce of praise or pleasure until the job was done and she was satisfied. But it was always as he'd told her-all in good time.

"You should have listened to me when you had the chance," he taunted.

The little princess looked up at him then, her mouth gapping open, her eyes glazed over. "Please! There must be something you can do! Some spell!" She stared at him for a moment, her face twisted in worry and torment, then she left, she tore out of the castle, he suspected heading for the place that he wanted her to go, the place the Seer told him they both needed to go.

His plan wasn't done of course, not by a long shot. She'd been tempted by darkness and not succumbed to it, she truly was pure of heart. But in order for this to work he needed something to represent that purity, something that his dagger could absorb and use, something that could convince the hat he was someone who hadn't succumbed to the darkness. Thanks to the Seer, he already knew what that was. All he needed now was to make her cry. It was in his best interest to let her think she'd made the biggest mistake a person could make, to let that knowledge build for just a bit longer. He smiled as he sat back down in his seat. If he had a maid, he'd have asked for a cookie to match his grin. Instead all he could do was sit back and relax. He'd let her have some time to realize the devastating effect of her decision, then meet her in the Apprentice's house soon enough to claim his prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seen Scene. Fast and familiar. No comment.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter. Look at this, only three more tried and true "Frozen Chapters" to go and really Anna is only in two of them. Seems like we were just bracing ourselves for the Frozen Chapters and now look...it's practically all over! Peace and Happy Reading!


	88. According to Plan

With the Apprentice now a harmless mouse his magic was muted; not gone, not entirely, but certainly it was weaker than it had been before. Prior to today, he knew that it must have taken several strong spells to conceal that little house at the foot of the mountain and the Apprentice from him. But the moment his potion had worked, the spells were so weak they were nearly non-existent. He could feel the light magic coming off the little house from where he sat in his castle now. He was itching to go along with the girl. But why bother rushing about the mountain when it was so much simpler to take it easy and rejoice in how well things had gone and were going. All was according to plan.

He waited the appropriate amount of time before leaving, until the crystal ball informed him that Anna of Arendelle had finally arrived at the Sorcerer's house and was muttering something frantically to herself. He could only imagine what it might be, and ordinarily would have been content to do just that if only he didn't need to finish his Master Plan.

"Careful you don't step on it!" she exclaimed when he appeared before her in the little house. Victory roared through his blood as he felt a small tingle, only a tickle of magic, feebly acknowledging that he wasn't supposed to be here, but it was useless. It was trying to push him out, trying to protect the cabin, but it was a bit like an ogre being pushed about by...well...a mouse! It wasn't enough to banish him. Funny, in his memories he'd never seen beyond the room with the doors, the same room that the Seer had given him his vision of. Now that he was looking about it was rather nice; airy, spacious, free in a way. Leave it to Merlin's brat to come up with that.

"We have to find him!" Anna begged still doing turns and looking around the floor. "You have to change him back."

"Oh, but I can't, dearie."

"Why?" she breathed sounding more frantic than disappointed.

"Because I don't want to," he explained with a smile. "He was protecting something that I need."

It was finally in that moment than Anna stopped moving and talking. The look on her face changed and he could practically feel the brain in her skull begin to work. She was a bright girl when she took the time to be and right now he was guessing she was starting to put the many pieces together. He could see it all falling into place in her mind, plain as day.

"You were the one who poisoned him," she realized.

He let out a gleeful laugh at her discovery. She didn't return the reaction.

"Then why did you send me there with an antidote if you wanted to turn him into a mouse?!" she shouted angrily.

"It was never about him. It was always about you!"

"It was all a test?" she breathed, the prompting helping her to sort out the last pieces for the poor girl.

"And one you performed admirably," he added taking a step closer to her. "You see, he's but the first line of defense. And what he protects is also guarded by an enchantment... a spell that can only be broken by someone who has been tempted by their inner darkness and turned away from it, someone just like you. I knew you wouldn't do it," he sighed turning from her and looking at the fireplace. That was where the door would appear. "I knew you'd see the best in the old man."

Behind him the Princess was silent. Finally, he had her speechless! He could feel his dagger in his jacket and figured he had only a moment or so until she cried and he-

"I never faced my inner darkness."

"What?" he gawked turning around to face her once more. Behind him her voice was strong and certain, unwavering. But that statement was a lie. He simply didn't believe. He'd seen her confront that darkness. Perhaps she was just too small minded to see it for herself.

"As soon as I met the old man, I knew what I had to do. I could never hurt someone to get what I want. Elsa wouldn't want me to. So I was never even tempted by that inner darkness you speak of. In fact, I don't even think I have one. I'm, unlike you, nice."

He laughed at her, laughed and smiled despite the very serious implication of her pretty little speech. It wasn't true of course, she just didn't want to face what she had inside of her or admit to it, most wouldn't. The trick in this case wasn't going to be getting her to turn to darkness, it was going to be getting her to admit that she had one. No one was perfect all the time. No one was "nice" all the time, not privately. Maybe it was a single thought or just a small action, but she had that darkness. She just had to realize it. It was going to be fun!

"Well, then, dearie, I hope you're gonna enjoy spending the rest of your life locked up in my tower. It was part of our deal."

Though he was sure she wouldn't read it, just as she hadn't taken the time to read it the first time, he produced the contract she'd signed before her. She didn't read it, he didn't think that she could at the moment, her eyes were swimming with tears and something else that he'd been waiting to see in her since the very first moment she'd stepped into his story: fear.

"But I have to get back to Elsa," she begged, her voice shaking.

"Then you should never have left home in the first place. Imagine the guilt she will feel when you don't return home from your journey... a journey you only took because of her. She will finally become that monster everyone fears she is." Tears were gathering in her eyes, her jaw was setting, her gaze was steady. This might just work out better than he'd planned. "Oh!" he gasped sarcastically for effect. "I suppose the wedding's off."

He stepped around her, preparing once more to collect the tear he was going to need when he heard a flash of metal behind him.

"No!" Anna cried and when he turned he found that she was standing there with a sword in her hand pointed at his heart. "Rip it up. Rip up the contract now!"

He fought the urge to laugh and dance, if he did it might clue her into what he was doing, how he was planning. Oh, yes, this certainly could turn out far better than he'd ever hoped, he'd been given not one, but two chances to force dear Anna to confront her own inner darkness. If one didn't work the other surely would, he had only to say the right thing.

"Well, I can't do that, dearie," he squealed. "No, I'm afraid the only way for you to escape your fate is by killing...me. And we both know...you're just...too...nice." He admired her fierceness and determination, but he liked the way she stared at him and raised that sword to his chest even more at his comment. That was temptation. "Do it," he taunted moving closer to make it easier on her, not that it mattered. "Go on. Right through me." Oh, she was tempted, so tempted that much was clear. But was she tempted enough? "Do it. Do it. Do it! Do it!" he screamed, louder and louder each time for each time he screamed was more time she had to build it up in her head, more time for her to consider what she needed to do but would never work! "Do it!"

Suddenly Anna took a deep breath, the sword fell from her hands and to the floor a moment before she did. It was as though the strength had gone right out of her. Compromising morals had that effect on a person. Not only did it produce weakness, but also the sounds that she was making as she huddled herself there on that floor. She put her hand to her mouth as she continued to gasp for air and finally began to weep. How perfect for him?

"You may never have considered dosing the old man..." he explained pulling his dagger from his jacket and walking toward the poor girl, "but you just thought about killing me."

He giggled as he leaned down to inspect her and found a single, beautiful tear rolling down that cheek of hers. This was what he'd seen in his vision and it was glorious. He held out his dagger to her and at just the right moment it dropped down onto the metal. It glowed bright for a moment, but then faded once more so that it looked deceptively normal.

"And now I have exactly what I need…the tear of someone who has faced their inner darkness and turned away. The love for your sister was all I needed."

"I should have known," she snarled looking up at him her cheeks well and truly tear-stained. "I should have known the moment I met you...you're a monster. You take the most precious thing in this world...love...and turn it into a weapon."

He smirked at her. If she only knew…a monster he may have been, but he was a monster driven by love. And he hadn't been the one to make love a weapon, he was merely using what the rest of the world had given him to wield it properly. By some miracle he'd seen that the Princess knew how to handle a sword, but metal, no matter how sharp, was not the most dangerous thing in these lands. It was the love she so desperately clung to. Perhaps she could learn that from all this.

"Love is a weapon, dearie, always has been," he laughed rising from his place by her side. "It's just..." he'd done enough waiting. Now it was time to finally lay claim to his prize. Casting a revealing charm was an easy feat for the Dark One, casting it with the dagger in his hand was a powerful feat. The trap doors in the other room burst open so violently that the hay was tossed clear into the rafters. Anna didn't even hesitate. "So few people know how to wield it."

The room was just like he'd imagined it, just as Zoso and so many others remembered it; scarred from the battle of other Dark Ones and Villains trying to claim the hat for themselves. It was tempting, truly it was to savor the moment, to take his time walking down those steps one at a time, to lose his breath as he sauntered through the broken and beaten room and then hold his prize high into the air as he took custody of it. But he wasn't going to do that. He couldn't. History dictated he shouldn't. More than one Dark One had attempted to fetch this hat, all of them had one thing in common, they'd been too slow and therefore the apprentice had stopped them. Upstairs the Apprentice was nothing but a mouse and would be for some time. But he wasn't about to make a mistake like his fellow Dark Ones. He wasn't about to celebrate winning before he'd actually won. The orders from Nimue were always very clear.

Get the hat. Get out.

For that reason alone, he didn't take his time. He marched down those stairs not like a man in victory but a man on a mission. At the bottom he brought the lamps to life with a blast of magic, igniting them so he could see and then he refused to pause. He refused to be breathless. Instead he climbed right up onto the dais. When it didn't refuse him he waved his dagger over the round little box before him. When he once again felt no fight or fire come from it, he pushed more magic into it, silently ordering the thing the open and reveal itself.

It was ridiculous how easy it was with that single tear drop. He watched in amazement as the box shifted and morphed and grew until finally grew into a beautiful pointed hat.

He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene was just one that didn't translate well from screen to page. It happens. I find it's often with these intense action scenes that it really happens with, especially with Rumple because all these actions are so well thought through in his mind.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for leaving me comments on these chapters, even if they're not the best. Fun fact, I did you a small favor here. In my original outline Rumple going down into the cellar to retrieve the hat was supposed to be it's own chapter. But when I actually sat down to write the event it was only a few paragraphs so I stuck most of it onto this chapter so you wouldn't have a chapter of only 250 words. My gift to you. Only one more Anna chapter left! Not a happy one but we're gonna get through it and then hey, we're home free! The bad Frozen Chapters that nearly everyone has told me they weren't looking forward to are in the past and there is nothing in front of us but...well...it's Rumple so...you know...misery, death, despair...you know, the usual. Peace and Happy Reading!


	89. So Close and Still So Far

He didn't want to waste time, but he could see how so many of the Dark Ones before him had lost time staring at that hat.

It was gorgeous.

He would be first to admit that he didn't have an eye for beauty but even he could declare it was stunning. It was blue, but what kind of blue he couldn't name, for it had been fashioned to look like the night sky. It was royal blue, sky blue, dark blue, turquoise, cobalt, azure, and so many others. There were stars and galaxies spattered all over it but none that he could identify because they moved constantly. There was depth to it, so that he seemed to go on infinitely. The galaxies swirled, the stars glided from the conical tip to the brim, then from one side to the other. There was no seam that he could make out, the brim wasn't very wide and he couldn't find stitching that connected the two parts of the hat. It seemed as though it was only one single piece of fabric from top to bottom, though what kind of fabric could make this or withstand the kind of magic that had to be needed to create it, that was a discovery Dark Ones hadn't made yet. And now was not the time to find out, or so Nimue reminded him.

Get the hat. Get out.

He didn't want to waste time and yet there he stood practically drooling over it. This was where more than one Dark One had met their match and now he stood there waiting for the same fate if he continued to stare at it as he was. This was neither the time nor the place to analyze this magic. He had to get it home; where it would be safe.

With the understanding that the hat was exactly what he needed it to be, he used his dagger to put it away, to secure it back into the confines of the box once more. It would be easier to move that way and far easier to carry. Then he picked it up off the dais, turned, and left the room for good. He was surprised when he arrived at the top of the stairs back into the Apprentice's cabin; he half expected Anna of Arendelle to be gone. But there she was, still huddled on the ground, knees to her chest and head bowed, at least until the trap doors closed with a bang behind him. With a deep breath she got quickly to her feet once more and adjusted her skirt.

"I helped you get what you want," she said through a sob like a child might after they'd just had a tantrum. "So give me what you promised. Tell me about my parents."

Well…a deal was a deal. She hadn't put the vial into the old man's tea, but he supposed she was right, it was only for her ignorance that he'd been able to retrieve the hat, an ignorance that he'd played on from their very first meeting. As far as he was concerned the knowledge he had was nothing that had to do with him, there was no harm in giving it up. And as for that thing around her neck. It was a beautiful piece of magic, but next to what he held in his hand right now it looked weak and pathetic. Next to the hat he had very little interest in it or in Arendelle or either of it's princesses. There was only freedom. And from there, Baelfire.

"Well, dearie, the King and Queen of Arendelle landed on my doorstep with an itsy-bitsy problem...your sister," he answered moving toward her, enjoying the feeling of forcing her to take steps back as he claimed the ground she'd been on. She looked hurt by the words that he'd said and knew before she raised objection that she wasn't going to listen. That was her choice. Sometimes the truth was difficult to accept, it was our choice to choose to believe it. "They wanted something to take away her powers...forever."

Anna stumbled and gave a small gasp as she reached out for the mantle. He'd boxed her into a corner. She had no where to run from her precious truth.

"My parents loved Elsa."

"Sounded more to me like they feared her," he corrected as she began to side-step him, probably intending to run out the door and away from him at any minute. With no more need for her, he'd be happy to let her go. "It's a thin line and, oh, so easy to cross. You must have known. They always wished she had been born a little bit more...normal."

The smirk wiped off her face, she looked him up and down. "Did they find what they were looking for?"

"I'm afraid not. No one could lay their hands on that kind of magic...until now," he tempted presenting her with his prize, the very thing that might have helped Elsa, or rather saved the world from her sister. How lucky for the Queen that she would never get her hands on it.

"So, that's what the box does," she breathed.

"Not the box, what's inside...a hat, crafted thousands of years ago by a sorcerer for one purpose...to steal magical power...and guarded all these years by his apprentice." And with any luck, it would be his ticket to overpowering the curse of the dagger and destroying the Apprentice once and for all so that he could get into the tower and destroy Light Magic for good. It was all within his grasp. When he and Bae were reunited, there would be nothing to stand between them as there had been last time they'd met.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"When the hat has collected all its ill-gotten power and is fully charged, I will be unstoppable," he explained pushing her back into a corner once more. It was like dance, leading the way meant he was the one in charge, and he wanted the dear Princess to know it.

"I thought the Dark One was already unstoppable."

"There are limits, however small."

"No. You can't," she insisted. "That mouse...that apprentice...he dedicated his life to keeping it out of the hands of people like you."

He smiled as he took a step closer. Foolish naïve girl. As if the existence of the Apprentice was enough to make him put the hat down and see the light. "Too bad he's not here to stop me," he whispered in her face.

"What if he is?" Suddenly her eyes roved upward, to something on the ceiling. He followed her gaze to a rafter where a mouse, nearly the same color of the wood was climbing about and-

He jumped! One second he was on the rafters and the next he was on his hand. Barely as soon as he'd realized it he felt the piercing sting of a bite. Hard, sharp little teeth penetrated his scaly flesh and he screamed. He flung his hand about to rid himself of the beast and then moved back to wrap his hand around her throat for that little prank.

"Don't come any closer!"

Magic shot through him, straightening his back and forcing him to take a step back that he couldn't remember telling himself to take and it was then that he took in the true horror of the scene before him. Anna of Arendelle stood there before him, looking just as confused as he'd felt, wielding a blade in his direction. The blade was his dagger.

Damn the Apprentice. Damn him for knowing more than he knew and being more powerful than he should have been! Even in mouse form! That potion should have taken away his mind, obviously it hadn't! And now she had the dagger, just as he'd wanted her to have and whether she knew what it meant or not she was thinking with all her might about him staying away from her and therefore that was what he was doing. He couldn't touch her. Damn Merlin for building a prison for his lover and enslaving every Dark One who had ever lived because of it.

"Wait...you're not coming any closer just because I told you not to?" He watched as her eyes were drawn to the dagger in her hand and ground his teeth together. Clever girl. She wouldn't not know what she had for much longer.

"I get it. As long as I have this wavy knife, you have to do as I say, don't you?"

"Yes," he answered without wanting to. "That's how it works."

"Is that one of the limits you spoke of? Is that why you want the hat...to free yourself from the control of this dagger?" he bit his tongue, grateful that she was asking questions but not demanding the answers-

"Answer me!"

"To be free of the control and to keep my power. Yes!" he answered obediently.

"Yeah, I can't let you walk out of here with that!" she exclaimed with all the attitude of a mother chastising a child for wanting to leave his home without shoes. "So, please, give me the box," she ordered.

He tried to disappear, to use his magic to send it elsewhere to fight back! But the fight lasted little more than a second. His body moved without permission, stepping as close as he had to without getting any closer to hand the box to her. All he wanted gone, just like that. How could he have fallen prey to a childish girl as his former Dark Ones had fallen prey to the greatest wizard of all. When he got his dagger back, he was going to rip the Princess of Arendelle limb from limb, then take that dagger and use her sister's power to free himself from it forever. But for right now, the trick was going to be gaining his freedom back entirely.

"Remember, dearie, you can't keep hold of that dagger forever, and you don't want to be on the other end of it when I get it back," he threatened.

"Then I command you send me and this box home to Arendelle."

"If I must." Arendelle was lovely this time of year. He wasn't sending them anywhere that he couldn't follow.

"Wait!" Anna cried. "And, also, you can never hurt me. Or my sister. And you have to turn the mouse back into a man. Okay. Now I'm ready."

Stipulations. He hated stipulations. But he'd managed to kill people with far more confining stipulations. And it usually tasted oh so satisfying when he was done. They spent their entire lives always looking over their shoulder for him, faithless that their stipulations would protect them. They were looking for him, which meant they never saw his revenge coming. One way or another he'd make it so. And if he must do this then he could already sense victory in what she was requesting. He had to send her back, not the dagger. Which meant that once she was home, she held no power. Her ability to protect that hat at home was non-existant. He'd get it back when he killed her.

With a wave of his hand he did as she commanded and sent her away. He focused his magic on her and the box and a moment later they were both gone while the dagger clattered to the floor before him and he felt something close to his spin release. Without hesitation he moved forward to pick up his dagger, examine the writing and take a breath now that it was back with him.

And then he screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry! I know this looks like a disaster but I made something really happy out of it in the next chapter! Just wait for it because I am super excited to show it to you.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! This is the last of the Anna chapters. Of course there is one last Frozen Chapter that has to happen but it's toward the end of the section and it's just one chapter. Everything in between...I think you're going to like it. Peace and Happy Reading!


	90. The Extra Detail

The house was destroyed. But at least it wasn't his Tower.

He'd been so angry following Anna's departure, at his own hand, that he'd gone a bit mad with fury, breaking glasses, splitting wood, tearing apart pillows and fabric, imploding stones. He'd wanted to find that little mouse; the little rodent that had ruined all his plans and all the plans of all the Dark Ones before him. Anna had demanded that he turn the Wizard back into a human, but she'd said nothing about making sure that he was alive when he made him a man again. He'd kill that mouse. He'd kill him, then turn him back into a human, and enjoy looking at whatever broken and mangled body he left behind. He hadn't gotten the hat, and though he was confident that one day he would get the hat back, he also knew that he wasn't about to miss an opportunity to destroy the one that stood between him and Merlin's Magic. He could still make his plans work. He could hire someone, send them to Arendelle, have them infiltrate the family, and kill the Princess after locating the box. Maybe not tomorrow, like he had hoped, but with a little time and patience, he could follow through. Patience was his gift, according to Nimue, even if at the moment, she was not in a pleasing mood with him. All these decades had proved was that he had patience galore. He would do what he had to and make sure everyone involved knew better than to mess with him.

But that damn mouse eluded him. He was here, somewhere in this house, hiding. Every now and then, he heard a squeak that told him as much. But he couldn't find him. Not behind the fireplace, not under the bed, not in the rafters, as if he didn't keep checking those every five minutes! He'd checked above and around. The only thing there seemed left to check was below.

He rose from his place by the rubble that had once been the fireplace, then held out his hand to obliterate the floorboards…and stopped.

A chill ran through his body. The Seer was whispering. Then she was shouting at him, crying out at him to remember!

His vision. It wasn't a coincidence that the spot he wanted to destroy first had been where Anna had dropped his dagger. But there was something familiar about the image of his dagger on the floor. Something his brain was trying to recall, but it was difficult through the red haze of anger.

He remembered! He'd seen it before. He'd never been in this house before never looked or focused on the floor before through the crystal ball, which left only one possibility: the vision the Seer had given him.

His heart knocked against his rib cage like a reminder, trying to shake the memory loose from his head as he closed his eyes and tried to think. He remembered Anna. He remembered seeing her in this house, he remembered taking the tear and the Seer telling him that Anna was the key to the box…

But that wasn't the only thing she'd said.

_"But the true key is in the box!" she screamed as he found himself looking back at the floor, his dagger was on it. Both the dagger and the floor melted away to reveal a hole in the floor. A plain wooden box. "Your answers."_

He remembered. He hadn't paid attention to it at that moment because he'd been so focused on the hat, on finally achieving what every Dark One had wanted. But what he wanted wasn't what every Dark One had wanted. Not truly. They all wanted the hat. Only he wanted Baelfire.

Anna was the key to the box, but the true key was the box…

Which was hidden under the floor.

The place where the dagger had fallen.

He let the magic inside of him build, he let it grow and swirl and then pushed it out and shot it at that place he was staring at now. The wood disintegrated before his eyes into nothing but dust. He applied the same magic to the wooden boards around it until there was a hole in the floor revealing the true foundation of the little house, then he stepped closer to peer inside. There, in among the dust and debris and dirt, was a simple wooden box.

It was small; like a child's music box, no bigger than something a little girl might put a few pieces of jewelry. Actually, its design wasn't far off from what Cora and now Regina kept their hearts in, but less ornate. It was made only of unpainted wood, a couple of metal hinges, and a small metal latch that had no lock or key. It was light, too. Maybe too light. When he picked it up he had the sense that there was nothing in it until he tipped a bit and heard a few faint taps against the side. He rotated it more, this way and that. Every time he heard something, several somethings, bang against the sides of the box, tap, tap, taping. But every time he felt no weight. There was no heart inside this box. So what was in it? And why did the Seer want him to have it?

_Answers, answers, answers, answers…_

The Seer was chanting over and over again in his head. Answers. Answers to what?

With a wave of his hand, he righted a small table that had been pushed away and set the box down upon it. Then, he held his breath as he opened the simple latch on the front and tilted the lid up. He let his breath out in a disappointed huff.

Paper. It was only paper! The bottom of the box was littered with small pieces of paper. But...the more he examined them, the more his heart began to race, and his disappointment faded. It wasn't just paper. To start with, there was no reason to hide small fragments of paper. In addition, the papers were rolled tight which meant...scrolls! Not just paper but parchment scrolls so tiny they could fit in the palm of his hand. They were thinner than his pinky and tied with a thread so thin he didn't know how to make it! Gingerly he pulled one of the scrolls free. He wasn't about to dismiss this. The Apprentice hadn't gotten so far to protect a box of paper. There was something to these. Something important.

They were touched by magic!

He could sense it as soon as he rolled it between his fingers. It wasn't just Light Magic. It was Fairy Magic. Strong Fairy Magic at that.

Just then, he heard a squeak come from near the fireplace and turned to see the same brown mouse that had bitten him looking up at him, his nose twitching, beady little eyes staring at him as if daring him to chase and kill. He'd stopped hiding and come out to face him? No...he was tempting him. The Apprentice wasn't supposed to remember his life or who he was in that form, but he could tell that he did, at least in some way. He didn't believe he'd stayed hidden as he tore his house apart and then made a sudden reappearance just as he'd found something potentially valuable. He was trying to distract him, which could only mean one thing. He'd found something important; valuable.

With a snap of his fingers, he sealed the mouse inside a small metal cage with a bit of hay. His distraction wasn't about to work. He wasn't tempted to run off and kill the Apprentice. Now he could do it when he wanted, which was after he'd discovered his secrets. He wasn't an idiot. Coming out of hiding, risking his life for this box, there might have been a spell on it that did something if he died. He couldn't risk it.

"What have you been hiding, Little Wizard?" he questioned. Little Wizard. That was what Nimue had called him when she'd known him, and all had been well. She'd never imagined what he might grow into.

Another wave of his hand and more magic and the scroll grew. So did the thread. With a snap of his fingers, the thread broke, and the scroll unfolded to reveal tidy writing in ink that sparkled in the light.

_Apprentice, we appreciate your last correspondence, we were all so sorry to hear of the death of the previous Author, we know the pair of you had quite the relationship if only privately. He was truly a remarkable man, and it seems his world is all the lesser for their loss. We are, however, pleased to hear that there is a new Author among us. We shall do our best to keep our eyes open for Isaac and any assistance that he should need in the future. As always, you have our sincerest loyalty, and thanks for your services to our kind. Blessings, The Superior Mother, Reul Ghorm._

Well now...what was this?!

He picked up another letter, enlarged it, and read it.

_Apprentice, Thank you for your last correspondence and for assuring us that the Black Fairy remains trapped in her own realm. We have done all that we can to contain her but know that she is able to muster a bit of magic to cross realms for a short period of time when summoned. We continue to search for an answer to this problem. The good news is that her summoning is old, and not many can read it. The bad news is that it isn't old enough. We will continue to try and seek out all summonings for destruction, just to be safe. I look forward to your next letter. Blessings, The Superior Mother, Reul Ghorm._

"Well, well, well, a secret correspondence between you and the Mother of all Fairies. Why am I not surprised?" he muttered as he pulled out another one. There must have been hundreds of letters in that box. It seemed their correspondence went on almost as long as both had existed, which was a long time. It would take days to read through them all, and without doubt he would, but…he'd already had one failure today. The Seer had promised answers in this box, and yet nothing looked promising about the letters he'd read thus far. What was he supposed to find? If he were back in his Tower he had just the spell to cast to find what he needed. But since he was here…

He held his dagger tight in his hand, held it over the box, and summoned his answers. Two scrolls shot out of the box and raced toward his dagger, sticking there to the metal as if they were magnetic. The mouse squeaked wildly as he pulled them off. Fear. That was good.

He enlarged the first, broke the seal, and read:

_Apprentice, I am sorry to interrupt our typical "all is well" reports with dire news, but I'm afraid it is a matter of utmost importance. It is my true belief that the Dark Curse is no longer safe here with us. Only days ago, we intercepted two of Rumpelstiltskin's spies, innocent individuals being forced to do his bidding, among our most holy of holy places, seeking out the Curse he so desperately desires. We have dealt with the issue of his spies, but I believe that if he can penetrate this far into our fold, then we need to do what we can to make sure he does not obtain this Curse! The trouble is, of course, that Dark Magic calls to Dark Magic. We cannot destroy the scroll as the Curse is too powerful, nor can we think of a place to hide it where he will not be able to find it. We know that you have had experience with Dark Ones in the past. Any insight you might be able to offer us into this matter would be greatly appreciated. Blessings-_

He didn't read the last bit, he simply plucked the other piece of paper off the dagger and set it aside. He felt light-headed and dizzy, he was so eager he fumbled as he enlarged it, tore the thread free, and read:

_Apprentice, We were overjoyed to receive your correspondence and even better a solution to our great problem! Natural Magic. Why hadn't we ever thought of that before? Rest assured, my old friend, we have found the strongest source of Natural Magic known to the Enchanted Forest and taken great lengths to hide the Curse there. Along with a few other tricks we have, we sleep soundly at night knowing that it shall remain free of the Dark One's hands, hopefully until the Dagger's Curse falls into the hands of another. Many thanks and Blessings-_

He tossed the letter away and let out a noise that wasn't human. It was one of astonishment and relief and utter overwhelming disbelief. The mouse was squealing away, but he could hardly hear it over the hum of his blood in his ears. Answers, the Seer said. Answers indeed! For years, decades, centuries even he had looked for the Curse! Searched high and low and so many realms, and now here it was! Just like that, the answer to everything, the key to finding Baelfire, it was right in front of him and practically had been the entire time. Oh, no. The Blue Fairy hadn't written it's hiding place down precisely, but "disguised by the strongest source of Natural Magic known to the Enchanted Forest"…she may as well have written it down and covered the place in glittering fairy dust! There was only one place his Curse could be.

His answers were on Bald Mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? Well?! Did I not promise you I would make the Big Bad lead into something important?! While we saw him retrieve the Curse on the show, we never did find out how he found it there. We saw him discovering he needed it and making inquiries about where it was, but we never saw how he figured out where it was. So, I used an awful arc to lead to something awesome...the way he finds the Curse. And here's the beautiful part about it: we know that it's right around this time that Rumple has to find the Curse because it's when he meets the Queens of Darkness and that means that by the time Belle is there he already has the Curse (and she's coming sooner than you know). So finding it has to be now. And in my mind, it was always the Apprentice and the Blue Fairy who had to have the answer, it was in character for both of them and it fit so perfectly into the timeline too, like this was exactly the answer it was so easy to write it! The answer has been with the Apprentice at the bottom of his mountain all along. So? How did I do? Good? Love it? Hate it? Disappointed?
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter, I'm excited to hear what you think of this chapter. It's sort of an in-between chapter. I think it is officially labeled as a Frozen Chapter but in my mind it bridges the gap between Frozen and The Curse making itself both and neither at the same time. And hey, if you don't like this then I still have good news for you. In the chapters ahead, we have some fun with the Queens of Darkness and we get the return of a fan-favorite character as well. Guesses? Peace and Happy Reading!


	91. The Effects of Natural Magic

Information in hand, he knew that there was no time to lose. He had an advantage for once in his life, and he'd be damned if he was going to waste it on things like chance and luck. In half a heartbeat, he developed a plan, with the help of the Seer whispering instructions, as well as the former Dark Ones shouting opinions, he knew what he had to do and knew he had to do it now. So, dagger in hand, he made quick work of the house. Everything he'd destroyed, he mended. The splintered wood was made whole again. He made sure the letters from the Blue Fairy were miniaturized, sealed, and stuffed back inside their tiny box, then he recalled the memory of his vision and placed the box just as he'd found it before he sealed over it again. When all was said and done the place looked just as it had before he arrived. But there was one problem...the air reeked of Dark Magic. How could it not? He sensed it everywhere and was certain that the Apprentice would too. He'd be suspicious, but the good thing was that the hat was missing. It would act as a red herring. If all went the way he wanted it to, then the Apprentice would naturally assume that there was Dark Magic afoot because someone had stolen the hat. He'd be so busy chasing after the hat that he might never discover that the Curse was gone too. But just in case…

With the house in order he made his way over to the table he'd placed the mouse on. In an hour, the spell would reverse on its own. He didn't need an hour. He summoned a vial of potion out of his Tower and inserted an eyedropper into it. Then he grabbed the mouse in one hand and waved the other over him, putting him to sleep instantly. He had to change him back, but he wanted to get every last second of ignorance out of him that he could. As soon as he put together what happened, he'd go to the fairies, and he didn't want those beasts snooping around his castle anymore than they had to. They'd never be able to get to the Curse from him once he'd hidden it, but he still needed the time to retrieve and hide it away! He wanted the biggest head start he could possibly get!

He force-fed the sleeping mouse a few of drops of memory potion with the eyedropper. It was probably overkill, it would eliminate his memories for weeks prior to this incident, but only if it worked. He wasn't taking any chances on the power the Apprentice possessed, not one bit. Where he was concerned, he wasn't confident in dosing or strength or even how long-lasting the potion was! For all he knew, the moment he realized he'd been dosed, he might be able to craft an anti-potion and get his memories back! But even that would take the wizard time. He had to take every advantage he could. The potion safely back in his hand, he waved away the cage and found the pallet the Apprentice slept on. He laid the mouse upon the pillow, then took a small needle from his pocket and pricked the beast on his forearm. He held the empty vial to his arm and watched as blood flowed into it. Rodent blood, but still blood of the Apprentice. Again, whether his plan to use it to build a banishing spell around his property would work was a mystery. But in this case, it was better to try than give up. His mind was racing, he had to think about the present as well as the future. That Curse was his top priority. Once he had it, he had to keep it safe.

Blood secure. Memory potion administered. Wound clean and healed. Finally, he stood up and took one last look around to make sure that it all seemed as though no one had been there. Once he reversed the spell, the Apprentice would become human and regain the full force of his magic. The enchantments he'd made to keep the Dark One out would be raised once more, and he would be expelled. He had to make sure everything was in order before he set things to right.

Seeing that they were, he couldn't put it off any longer. He took the eyedropper once more from his pocket, pulled a few drops of the anti-potion from a vial in his pocket, the same kind he'd given to Anna and claimed he had no more of, and he forced the potion down the mouse's throat.

There was a moment when he felt magic, Dark Magic at first, his own working in the residence, but as the small mouse was suddenly enveloped in a cloud of purple smoke that grew and expanded over the size of the pallet he felt Light Magic grow stronger too. First stronger. Then angrier. Finally it reacted.

One second he was standing inside the Apprentice's house the next he heard a sound like a cannon and was standing outside in the sunrise. Though he knew he was standing at the edge of the Apprentice's property and looking at the place the house should be, he saw nothing. No house. No Apprentice. There was only the bottom of his mountain just as there had always been. And a feeling of Light Magic that he hadn't expected when it had grown to strength and burst forth again. Unexpected but not unwelcome. He hoped that Light Magic might cover the traces of his Dark Magic. It was as though the universe was on his side. He figured it was best to act on that while he could. He didn't go home, didn't even stop for supplies, merely allowed his magic to take him where he wanted to be.

Bald Mountain was the strangest place he'd ever been to. Nestled in a Mountain Range that would have been a five-day journey from home on foot, it wasn't the tallest mountain among its brothers and sisters, but it was undoubtedly the strongest. There were all kinds of magic in this world, head and heart, Light and Dark, Fairy and Troll, Elemental, Blood, and then the lesser-known, but equally powerful Natural Magic. There wasn't much known about it because it couldn't be learned, it couldn't be taught or even conquered, only studied and even then sometimes from afar. It was believed that Natural Magic came about when certain natural elements encountered each other. Though each element had its own purpose in magic, when they converged there was miraculous magic that emerged. Natural Magic.

Limestone, sandstone, running water, salt, and wood; when these things combined on their own the effect was startling. He experienced the feeling of it the moment he arrived on the little ledge outside the mountain. With his dagger in his hand, he'd demanded to go to Bald Mountain, to find the fairy magic, but this ledge was all the further it had taken him. Natural Magic tended only to respond to Natural Magic or Natural Magical Abilities. The added elements had a tendency to do things to other types of magic. It could mute it or mutate it. It could worsen it or enhance it. It could ricochet or, if he was very, very lucky, work just the way it was supposed to. He wasn't going to bet on that second bit though, at least not once he was inside the mountain. Where he was now, on the outside, on this ledge, his magic had worked here, it had brought him here for a reason. Though he could feel the pull of the magic beyond this spot, wanting to drain his own away, right here, he could feel it clinging to him, buzzing around him, fighting to stay active. The Dark Ones were buzzing too. They knew where they were; they knew what being stupid in this situation might bring him. He had to measure each step carefully.

So before he took another step, before he moved one inch closer to the source of his magic's distress, he gripped his dagger tight. Instead of holding it out in front of him, he took a step back, and blasted the area before him with magic, everything he had, every powerful spell he knew. Suddenly the mountain before him quivered and shook. Snow fell from the peak, and he watched carefully, completely prepared to retreat if it was necessary. It wasn't. Though some snow did pile, when it shook free of the side of the mountain, what was revealed before him was a strange square-like hole cut into the mountain. It was similar to a mine shaft that dwarves might have carved. Dwarves and fairies were known to be allies…what were the chances they'd worked together? He pocketed the dagger and finally stepped forward.

Damn Natural Magic. The effect of walking into a tunnel that seemed to descend into it was unnerving, to say the least. His ankle was first to feel the brunt of it. Though he'd been fine for the first bit, he eventually felt small sharp pains where his injury lay. He could stand it for a small while, but with every step it grew worse and worse, and soon he found himself reaching out for the wall beside him. The feel of it beneath his fingers was an odd sensation. If felt like there was glass over the walls, glass covered in wax that left a strange tingle on his fingertips. Most days he felt nothing when he put magic into his leg. Using what he had to cure his limp had been so natural he'd begun to do it the very moment he'd become the Dark One. Now it took energy. And focus. And concentration. He had to close his eyes, to pretend as though he could see his magic inside of him, gather it together in one little ball, and send it to his leg. But it was slow. Magic that usually flowed freely inside of him, like water, felt like thick sticky syrup. Eventually, he managed, but when he opened his eyes the result was dizziness, nausea, and a rapid heartbeat that made it difficult to breathe. Somewhere inside a voice told him that some of that wasn't the Natural Magic, some of that was panic.

 _"That inner coward is showing, Rumpelstiltskin,"_ Nimue hissed in his mind. _"Mustn't let him out now."_

No. He mustn't. When he opened his eyes again, he was determined. Get to the Curse. Get it. Get out. Nimue's advice hadn't mattered for the hat, it would now. But even as he forced himself to move forward, the words in the Blue Fairy's letter rang out in his head, nearly overwhelming Nimue and the Seer and the other Dark Ones. " _Along with a few other tricks we have, we sleep soundly at night knowing that it shall remain free of the Dark One's hands."_ Other tricks…he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that it wasn't going to be as simple as he imagined.

Finally, from up ahead, he saw something moving. Setting his sights on what he saw, he took steps forward and ignored the smallest of twinges that remained in his leg even after adding magic.

Beetles.

Hundreds, maybe thousands, of bugs crawled across a wall of some kind up ahead. At first it seemed like it was just an accident, not a trick of the fairies, but the closer he got, the more he realized they were not ordinary bugs. Blood Scarabs. Of course. There was salt in this mountain, one of those elements that drew forth Natural Magic. Blood Scarabs were attracted to salt and made no distinction between finding it in water, on rocks, or their favorite, blood. Hence the name. He was careful not to get too close, lest the Sentinel smell him and alert his friends to that which flowed beneath his flesh. They wouldn't kill him, they couldn't, but he didn't want to find out how he'd continue to live if they made a banquet out of him, especially if he couldn't rely on his magic to get himself out of this place.

Wildly he looked around searching for a way around the scarabs. But there was no other way forward. This tunnel simply led to this wall and-

Further.

He didn't want to get closer, but when he looked beyond the wall the bugs were so attached to, he found that the wall was a different color than what he'd touched earlier. It was a brown color and appeared made of wood. It was a door. There was salt on the other side of it, and they were drawn to it, trying to get through to the next chamber. He felt very strongly he knew what was inside of that chamber…but how to get it?!

He took a breath as he removed a knife from his boot. They were blood scarabs. He didn't want to be bitten, but he knew there was one thing that would draw them away from salt, and that was an external source. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of what he was about to do, especially after what had happened the last time someone had gotten a hold of his blood. But if he was right, the scarabs would be drawn away, they would devour the blood and then frenzy looking for more. He'd have a minute. One minute to go in, get the Curse, and get back out again before they invaded the chamber in search of their next meal. One minute and a blood donation…for Baelfire he could do it.

"Ah!" He cried out in pain as the knife sliced through his forearm so deep that blood welled up and plopped onto the rocks beneath him. He let it flow, let it pain him. He needed his magic to be channeled into his leg to allow him to get his Curse. He could heal his arm later!

There was a puddle on the floor of the cavern the size of a dinner plate, and finally he saw the activity at the door begin to slow as they sensed food. He covered his arm with his hand to staunch the bleeding and stepped away, to the other side of the cave and watched as one beetle, the Sentinel, came forward, sniffed, and then the rest were unleashed. They crawled down so fast it happened in the blink of an eye. He didn't stay to watch their swarm, just began to count to sixty and moved to the door, which he promptly shut behind him.

Inside, the chamber left him breathless. Both literally and figuratively. The natural magic was strong in here, so much stronger than it had been outside the chamber. Now he knew why the scarabs had swarmed there. He could practically taste the salt in the air, and from somewhere below he could hear water running.

But there it was.

The door opened to another ledge, another platform that housed large stones, probably salt and limestone, at the end of the ledge there was a dais, one that was raised, similar to what he'd seen in the Apprentice's chamber. On top of it was a small glass bauble of sorts. There was something inside of it. And he was certain that what he felt in the air around him, aside from the salt and water and Natural Magic, was Dark Magic that sprang directly from that ball. It was a small reward. Outside this chamber the Magic had been enough to hide it from him, to keep it off his radar, but inside it wasn't strong enough to conceal what was there. He was in the presence of Dark Magic, and it gave him a boost, helped right his senses, helped give him some of his power back. It helped him see a future with his son once more at his side.

That image in his head, he raised his chin up high, strode toward the dais-

And stopped as fire erupted in front of him, creating a firm blockade between he and the Curse. No matter. He had thirty seconds. He could do it! He stretched his hand out, gathered Dark Magic from the Curse ahead of him, it was a risk using it here, but Baelfire was worth it, and he was immortal. No matter what happened, it wouldn't kill him. He focused all his energy on the flame, on melting it down and gaining access. The fire in front of him flickered, but stayed strong. He tried again. His hand, his wrist, his entire arm shook with the effort, but he did his best to silence it and push it down. Twenty seconds!

It wouldn't budge.

_Dragonfire!_

He realized as he smelled the sulfur in it. He could put out Dragonfire…when he was at full strength, which he wasn't. And…

He lifted his nose and smelled again. Fairy Magic. Faint, but he could sense it, lingering on the platform just behind the fire. A trick he couldn't identify.

With ten seconds, he stared at the glass ball ahead of him, and for the first time in a century felt the urge to weep. It was there! Right there! His ticket to his son was not fifty feet from him…and he couldn't retrieve it! Not yet anyway! As much as he wanted to, it was clear he would need-

Without warning, the floor beneath his feet began to tremble, and he staggered to find his balance wincing at the pair flaring in his ankle. From somewhere above he heard the sound of heavy boulders but never felt anything fall. Movement on the other side of the room grabbed his attention, and suddenly he saw what he thought was a shadow begin to rise. But it wasn't a shadow. It was staring at him, looking at him with two glowing red eyes as it stood from where it had been.

_Chernabog._

Now that was a problem.

With less than two seconds to spare he scrambled back, out of the way, he drew as much Dark Magic as he could into his body, away from his ankle, took a breath, focused as he'd never focused before-

He hit the ground hard on his left shoulder just outside the door to the chamber, mere feet away from where the beetles were just now finishing their meal. He'd hoped he might make it home, or at least out to the cliff, but given the magic he'd been working with, he was lucky he'd made it this far. Ignoring the pain in his ankle, he managed to pull himself back out of the tunnel. The nausea and dizziness returned the moment he hit the ground, but he suffered through it because the farther he got from the heart of that mountain the better he became until finally, he had the ability to stand, put his magic back into his ankle, and walk back to that place on the mountain where he'd been safely out of the magics reach.

He could go home now, without a doubt he'd make it this time. But he couldn't go. He had too. But he couldn't, not without looking behind him as he sucked in each clean, cool breath of air and felt a little stronger every second.

The Curse was there, he'd found it.

For over a century he'd sought it out, gone through hundreds of thousands of books, acquired new abilities, formed alliances, made foes, and now it stood before him!

And he was leaving it behind…

This time.

He was leaving it behind this time. But not next time. He was going to come back. He was going to regroup and come up with a solution, and he was going to do it fast! He had to. It was night time when he'd left the mountain, an entire day had passed since Anna's arrival. He had to come up with a plan to get that Curse and get it now because undoubtedly when the Apprentice realized what had happened, he'd rush right off to the fairies who would move the Curse again. He couldn't let that happen. This was a battle he couldn't lose again, for Bae's sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter seems like it's unnecessary filler, but it's actually really important to the plot. We have to assume that if the Curse has stayed hidden this long, undetected, then there really is no way for Rumple to see it or where it is than to go there himself. And the fact that Rumple seems to know what kind of help he needs to help him get to the chamber, get the Curse, and get out alive, would then suggest that he'd gone first himself and failed. So thus, this chapter was born. I'm sorry if it's a little rough around the edges, this chapter has been edited about half a dozen times and I feel like it shows.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I think you'll all enjoy this week of chapters. They were fun to write. Oh, and fun fact, earlier I told you I only named this section the Frozen Section because the first choice was too spoiler and redundant. The alternative section title here was "The Dark Curse", but yeah, I thought it gave too much away when we had to get through the Frozen bit first and then...really...The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse, The Dark Curse Section...little too much right. Up next, the return of one of your favorites. Peace and Happy Reading!


	92. Favors From An Old Someone

As long as Light and Dark Magic existed, there were two kinds of people in the world.

There were heroes, those that did what people considered to be "the right thing" like it was a hobby. Heroespath he wa were princes who saved towns, shepherds who saved damsels, even retired barmen that spent their lives stealing from the rich and giving to the poor before somehow magically falling in love with a Queen who wanted to murder her step-daughter.

He was not one of those people.

Though he believed that his quest for his son was the meant to be on, endless as it seemed, he was aware that there were quite a few who would refute his methods. Heroes would never help him get his son back. Which was a shame, because after several long hours of sitting in his Tower, he had come to the conclusion that this was something he couldn't do alone. He needed help. Blood Scarabs, Dragon Fire, at least one unknown piece of Fairy Magic, Natural Magic, and a Chernabog-it was too much even for the Dark One to handle.

But if heroes wouldn't help him, he had to find someone who would.

Fortunately, there were two kinds of people in the world, not just heroes, but those that often saw in shades of gray instead of black and white, those who focused on their own interests instead of others, those who were likely to start the fire that those heroes so often found themselves running into. They were the villains.

If he wanted something done "the right way" he'd call a hero. If he wanted something done, period, then there was no better way than to enlist a villain.

The only problem with that was that villains were self-serving. They didn't think of others, only themselves. He'd need a special argument, some kind of special arrangement in order to get a team to work together and after hours of thinking, he had come to the conclusion that he needed a team and a unique one at that. The cavern could cancel or mess around with most magic, not allowing spells, and therefore he needed villains who didn't need spells but had natural talents. The cavern was a place where natural magic was enhanced, it was likely if he chose individuals with the right abilities, they would become stronger and wouldn't suffer as he had. A terrifying thought, setting himself up in a place like that with no way out, but he'd make it work. For Bae. They didn't need to know what he knew about the cavern, and before he went he could take potions to help keep him on his feet. He could at least appear at full strength, and they'd never be the wiser. As for the "they"…

He had an idea of who he could use for each of his tasks, all of them women, none of them Regina, though it would have been nice to use her for this. No, for this he had three particular women in mind. The problem, aside from the fact that he was certain they didn't like him or even each other, was that one of them wasn't in this realm.

He'd spent an hour muttering curses under his breath for Robin of Locksley, and whatever ignorant Dark One had thought it was a good idea to send him on a wild goose chase over a pain in his chest he'd scarcely felt again forcing him to waste the one potion that could take him to any realm of his choosing! With no way to the London his target lived, he was left with one option. One that he wasn't thrilled with for many reasons, one that he would love to search for a way around, but with the clock ticking, he simply couldn't.

In the daylight hours, he worked. He prepared. He created potions to defend himself against the rigors of Natural Magic. He wrote two nearly identical letters for two very different people. For one, he summoned Pirithous, and ordered him to take it to a particular spot on the coast where he knew his first target liked to sunbathe. He obeyed and it was done. For the other letter, he sealed it, watched his crystal ball until the sunset and the time was right, then placed the letter in his jacket and let himself travel to a far away wood within Regina's Kingdom, to a small house with smoke rising from the chimney.

He could have knocked, but considering what he knew had just happened inside, he felt it better to let himself in.

"Well, well…Matrimony seems to be working quite well for you," he smiled as the familiar man sitting in a chair beside his daughter's bed jumped and twisted to get a good look at him. His tension faded the second he saw who it was. Jefferson wasn't the person he'd known what felt like eons ago. He was still young but seemed to have aged decades since he'd last seen him in person. It was cruel what he'd said to him. That much he knew. He wasn't sure how much Jefferson knew about what he'd known, but he had kept an eye on his former ally. He knew his wife was dead. He knew it was an accident after the pair had tried realm jumping and stealing again despite saying they wouldn't. He knew that he hadn't done a jump since then. In truth, he would be happy to leave Jefferson to mourn in peace with his daughter at his side if that was what he chose to do. But this was for Baelfire, and no matter what their relationship was or had been he needed him to do what only he knew how to do. There wasn't any time to find someone else.

"Tell me…is it everything you asked for?" he questioned, looking around the small place they now called home. They used to own a bigger house, he'd seen it in his ball after they'd married. But after the accident, he'd moved his daughter here, away from memories he imagined.

"Go away," Jefferson insisted as he rolled his eyes and moved away from his sleeping child. He moved to what could have been called the kitchen and dipped a gourd into a bucket of water. "I'm not in the mood."

"Well, now aren't we fussy."

"Fussy," he chortled as he dropped the gourd once more. "Can't imagine why. It's been…what?! Four…five years since we last saw each other? So can you just tell me what you want so I can say 'no' and get on with my evening?!"

"So glad you asked!" he smiled, ignoring the rest of what he'd said purposefully. "I have need for a man with your talents."

"Yeah…you forget that we've been here before, but this time things have changed. I'm retired."

He had a feeling he'd say that, even if he'd hoped he wouldn't. Truly, he'd wanted to be able to come here and leave on good terms and not use what he knew he had to, but then again that was why he'd done what he'd done all those years ago. He'd always been prepared for this moment.

"Thought you might say that, which is why I came personally to remind you…you owe me a favor."

"A favor!"

"Several actually. You accumulated quite the debt in your heyday!"

Jefferson's eyes went wide as he sucked in an audible breath and he straightened his back as if he'd been slapped. "You can't be serious! That was a joke!"

"I'm always serious, dearie! I take my deals quite literally. I thought you would have learned that in your time."

"Yes, but…" Jefferson stopped before he could finish his sentence. He'd been building up to something, he could hear that in his tone but suddenly his slumbering daughter had moved. It demanded his attention and reminded him not to raise his voice. He knew because he'd once been in a similar situation with Baelfire, which was probably why this seemed so difficult. "I have Grace," he finally went on in a quieter tone, looking over to where the child still slept. "And I gave you a potion that could take you anywhere, to any realm you want to go, you don't need me! Not unless…no…you didn't. You used it already?!" he exclaimed with bulging eyes. Jefferson stepped closer, but he didn't allow himself to be moved.

"I had a need to get somewhere and you weren't around, I had little choice in the matter. Really, it's your own fault-"

"No!" Jefferson refused, shaking his head and stepping away. "No, I don't take responsibility for your slip-ups. I gave you enough of my life, I don't have to do it anymore. I have my daughter and no wife, I can't be running around chasing after who knows what for you, not anymore! If something happens to me, like it happened to Pricilla, then Grace has nobody."

But that was the thing about their deals, magically Jefferson was bound to do what he wanted. He had no choice in the matter. A deal had been struck, and according to his abilities, he was entitled to do anything that he pleased in order to get him to pay off that debt. He could imprison him, take his daughter, destroy his home…anything.

But he didn't want to do that. Weakness. He could feel his own kind sneering at him for such sentimentality. Anyone but Jefferson and he would have taken the girl or thrown him in his dungeons already. But for Jefferson…he supposed he felt for him in some odd kind of way. He didn't want to, he didn't know how, but he did feel something, and that was clear. Very rarely in life had he had the urge to help other people but watching him sit by his daughter's bedside, a widowed man just trying to do what was best for his daughter despite who he'd been…yes, that sort of thing was a weakness.

"I also thought you might say that which is why I've come to make another exchange…I'm not a cruel man-"

"No, never," he commented sarcastically, rolling his eyes so far back into his skull he might have been able to see his brain. It reminded him of when the man before him had been nothing but a boy, and they'd joked at their first meeting in his Uncle's cabin. Jefferson had never feared him. He was one of the few; a rare person indeed.

"This particular deal, if done well, could be significant. So, in addition to forgiving another of your favors, I'll also pay handsomely."

"All of them."

"What?!"

"All of them!" he repeated slowly and loudly. "You'll forgive all my favors…and pay handsomely."

"A bold request."

"Not bold, just wise. You know I did learn a thing or two when we worked together all that time. Buy low, sell high, always start the negotiations cheap, never let them see what you really have. I do know how you work, Rumpelstiltskin. You said this deal was important to you, so I'm betting you're willing to pay for it, you just wouldn't make it your first offer so I'm going to jump through all that negotiation and arrive at our final deal. Being forgiven of my debts and having you out of my life completely…that's what is important to me. If I do this for you, then you will forgive my favors in addition to paying handsomely."

He swallowed hard. Jefferson was maybe a foot in front of him, his gaze held steady. Anyone else and he'd feel threatened abut at this moment the feeling ballooning in his chest was pride. He _had_ learned something from him. Something he wasn't exactly pleased with at the moment because it meant he lost, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care. He was impressed. And somehow he felt like he bore the weight of what had happened. He was a man of his own making. It made him miss Baelfire. And that was unexpected.

"Well, well…when did you get teeth?" he questioned sinisterly instead.

Jefferson shrugged a shoulder just like he always used to in his younger days. "Probably right around the time I stopped spending time with you and focused on my family." Yes. That tended to happen to men. Another victim of love, just as he'd always suspected. "What would you need me to do? _If_ I agree to all this, of course."

If. If was good. There was no more discussion of price. It was all the favors in exchange for what he wanted, and right now, talking to him, he wanted Baelfire back more than anything! He wasn't the one in control, and Jefferson knew it. He was going to give him anything he wanted to do this task for him. All his favors as payment was a cheap price.

"You recall fetching a medallion for me from the home of one woman named-"

"Cruella De Vil, from the London Realm, black and white hair, controls animals with her breath, yeah…she's kind of hard to forget."

"Good. Now I'd like you to fetch _her_ for me."

Jefferson groaned and sat down in a chair, rubbing his face. "You can't be serious."

"I believe we've already had that conversation. Let's not have it again," he responded quickly with a roll of his eyes. Somethings never did change. "You will fetch her for me from that world. You will bring her back to this world, leave her outside the Forbidden Forest with this!" From beneath his cloak, he brought forth the sealed letter he'd worked on. "Then you are free to leave her. As soon as you let me know she's here, I'll do the rest."

"And how is she supposed to get back without me."

Now it was time for him to offer a shrug. If she survived the Chernabog…that wasn't really his concern at the moment. "That will be her problem, not…not yours." He had to catch himself, to bite his tongue to keep from saying "ours". They weren't partners, not anymore, not by a longshot. This was now strictly a professional deal. Jefferson had seen to that. "However, I don't recommend telling her that right way. Remember, I only offer payment once the job is done as agreed to. If you don't get her here, then it's no deal."

"So you accept my terms then…"

His terms. All the favors owed and handsome payment in return for this one favor. What choice did he have?

 _Favor!_ The Seer shouted in his mind all at once. _One day he'll return a favor!_

After so many years he'd learned not to change his facial expression when the Seer spoke, but even he had trouble with this one. He hadn't expected the "unacceptable deal" cry to come from her! Nimue or the other Dark Ones perhaps, but not her! What had she said. One day he'd return him a favor. How was he to do that when he was about to give them all away? For a moment, he didn't answer. For just one moment, he waited, hoping that the girl would offer some further words of wisdom or perhaps a vision, but he wasn't surprised when she didn't. That particular power enjoyed being suspicious and prophetic. She enjoyed speaking in riddles and he knew she wouldn't give him the answer. He could ask, he could alter the deal and ask to save one…but he was so close to getting what he wanted, to getting Baelfire...

The future be damned! Everything that she'd predicted was within his grasp and time was running out! He needed this done quickly. What choice did he have?

"I will accept our terms, if you'll accept my mission…" he answered, offering him the letter.

With a sigh, Jefferson reached out and took it from him. He looked the plain white envelope over in his hand as if staring at it might bring him some solace or comfort. Finally, he glanced back up at him.

"You know I used to look up to you," he muttered softly, his eyes suddenly reminding him of Bae's when he'd been as small as Jefferson was in his chair. "There was a time I thought that we were friends, you and I."

"This old argument again…" he grumbled.

"No. Not the old argument," Jefferson refuted quickly. "Not the old argument because I've changed, I know the difference now. Having Priscilla in my life, even for the little time I had her…it was the best time of my life. I wouldn't have traded it for anything, no deal could ever be enough. And being a father…" he looked over his shoulder to where the girl was still miraculously sleeping soundly. "Now that Grace is all I have of Priscilla, I will cherish her forever."

He knew the feeling, at least where his daughter was concerned. And he felt a small flicker of happiness inside of him at the memories of days like he was experiencing. All the days he'd had with his son after Milah had gone and before things had gotten bad with the war. It had been the greatest feeling in the world. He'd been the best person he could ever be. He was happy Jefferson got to experience that. Love had made him a fool, but part of him knew that it also had forced him to grow up, and that wasn't a bad thing either.

But he'd never let Jefferson know that. Not before. And not now either.

"What is the point of this conversation?" he questioned dully.

Jefferson smirked and let out a soft snort before he rose to full height, and suddenly he was reminded of all the ways he'd grown. He'd been a boy when they met, child. Today he stood before him a man. And he knew their relationship would never be what it once had been, but he knew he'd had a part in the man Jefferson was today. And he was proud of that. He was proud of Jefferson.

"Call it friendly advice from someone you never considered a friend. I've seen what love and true friendship can do, Rumpelstiltskin, I know that you don't really value them; otherwise when Priscilla died, you'd have been here with me. But I hope one day you'll have what I had. I hope one day you know what it is to love everything that you despise now. I hope that what you face isn't…" he turned around to look at his daughter again before slowly letting his eyes roam around the house they stood in. He saw Jefferson's chest quiver. "I hope it isn't this."

He was right. They weren't friends. They never had been. If he had then he would know that he'd already suffered this and more. He'd suffered worse. But right now, there was no point in rekindling what had never been in the first place. Though his throat felt thick with emotion, he pushed it down.

"Touching…so you'll be going then."

Jefferson glanced down at the envelope in his hand, tapped if a few times against his palm, then nodded.

"I'll make arrangements for Grace come morning and be gone. I'll be paid, and my favors will be forgiven."

He wanted so badly to order him to go now, but with the girl asleep, the father in him knew it wasn't a possibility unless he wanted to stay and babysit. And he did not. It was going to take more of his precious time to wait for him, but the important thing was that it would happen. That was why he reached out his hand for Jefferson to shake and uttered only one word before going.

"Deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good guesses everyone! Some of you were right! Obviously the returning fan-favorite was Jefferson! But, also obviously, we can see that things between them were not what they once were. I told you their relationship had to be destroyed in order to get to the point that we no longer see Jefferson in Storybrooke or that Jefferson doesn't turn to his old friend for help. When we last left Jefferson and Rumple, Jefferson had that tone of belief that Rumple would get over his retirement and they'd go back to being friends. Here we see that it didn't happen and furthermore we see the aftermath of that combined with Priscilla's death. Jefferson is in a slump, he's depressed, and he's learned his lesson in a way, but here comes Rumple who sort of kicks him when he's down. That being said, there is a lot that I like about this chapter because we can see he's still...well...Jefferson. He's still unafraid of Rumple, still comfortable in a room with him, still capable of being pissed off with Rumple and maybe even pissing him off but without any side effects. And I like that this Is really the closest Rumple ever gets to realizing that Jefferson might have been an important person in his life after all.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! Much appreciated. I hope this chapter is appreciated despite the fact that it does show a decline in a really great relationship. It seemed a good place to bring Jefferson back since the last we heard of Cruella she was still in her other realm. And seeing as how her magical power is...not so magical (really a bit let down), I needed a way to get a message to her and bring her back into the Enchanted Forest. I could have used the bag Jefferson gave Rumple, but it's pretty clear in their first scene together that they'd never met before, making Jefferson the perfect ambassador. You still haven't seen the last of Jefferson, we'll get him a bit in the next chapter actually, and again, Moments readers know he'll be back later. I'm sorry for dragging this part out, Jefferson fans, I know, I'm cruel. But alas, it must be done. Peace and Happy Reading!


	93. Three Villains Walk Into A Room

Where did his ideas come from? Were they his? A future only the Seer saw? The Dark Ones of the past whispering their own plans into his ear? Or some combination of all three? Sometimes he knew. Other times he hadn't a clue who was responsible, only that when he had them, they were fully formed and, more often than not, perfect.

Since his first trip to Bald Mountain, he'd come up with a plan, an idea that he knew in his heart and soul would work, even if it had to be planned and executed quickly. He knew the right people to ask, he'd only needed the right language and the right tools.

He would think that after a century of waiting, he'd be used to it, but he found himself in his tower itching to pace, to work through his plan all over again. Pirithous had arrived earlier in the morning to tell him that the letter had been delivered and received by his first target. A few moments later, he watched through a mirror as Jefferson kissed his daughter good-bye and took his hat with him, a message for the second target. As for the third, he was going to leave that up to himself, but only once Jefferson returned and offered confirmation that all had gone according to plan. He had nothing to do but wait. He'd been watching the Apprentice and grown nervous when he realized that he had a visitor, none other than Ingrid of Arendelle, the former crowned princess. What she wanted with the Apprentice he didn't know. But a visit from someone of Arendelle after the current Princess had taken the hat with her…he could feel in his bones that if the Apprentice didn't already know the hat was gone he would soon. Somewhere in his mind he heard the sound of a ticking clock. He had to work faster. He had to get that Curse before the Apprentice discovered what else was amiss.

This could work, he just had to work quickly, a far cry from the pace he'd taken with everything thus far. But he managed. He swallowed the potions that he crafted to prepare himself for Bald Mountain. He reviewed his plan over and over. He spun wool into golden thread, gathered up a few jewels that would feed Jefferson and his daughter for two years, at least, he avoided watching his old accomplice in the mirror, acknowledging that it wouldn't help things move faster. Finally, he was considering going back downstairs to fool around with the fairy wand a bit before he felt the air around his Tower change in a familiar old way.

Jefferson.

"It's done?" he questioned despite not being able to see him.

"I dropped her off in the woods just like you requested," he answered, moving around his back to the table before him. "I left her and her two beasts with your instructions, just as you asked."

"Beasts?"

"Her dogs."

He sneered at him. "That's two more than I wanted and asked for."

"They never leave her side once they smell an intruder, not unless she calls them off and she didn't. It was the three of them or none of them."

He took a breath. In a few hours, the sun would begin to go down. They didn't have time for arguing, especially not when the object of his desire was where he needed her to be. If push came to shove, he could send the little beasts to the other side of the Enchanted Forest.

"A fair assessment. Fine. It will do no harm."

"So...are we done here? We're even? No more favors?"

 _He'll return a favor!_ the Seer hissed at him again. But it did no good. A deal was a deal, and he'd fulfilled his part of it. It was already done, no matter how painful it was for him.

"A deal is a deal," he answered, removing the pouch of goods that he'd gathered together for the man. He placed it into his hand with a clank and was pleased to see that Jefferson didn't check to see what was inside, just trusted it was there as he always had. At least they hadn't lost everything between them. "Your debts are forgiven."

"Good," Jefferson pocketed the pouch and moved away from him. Carelessly he removed his hat, flung it into the middle of his Tower, causing a storm of wind just as it always did. Though he heard glass shatter and paper tear, he remained stoic as the Realm Jumper turned back to him and nodded. "Have a nice life, Rumpelstiltskin."

And with that, he jumped inside the swirling vortex so that it closed, and the winds died down, leaving him several jewels lighter and a very messy workspace. With a snap of his fingers, everything was righted, but he offered a nod to the place that Jefferson had once stood.

"Until we meet again," he muttered confidently. Though the Seer wasn't whispering to him, she'd never been wrong yet. If Jefferson was going to return a favor then one day he would be back to earn it. This wasn't the end.

He didn't linger long after Jefferson's departure. If Cruella was outside the Forbidden Fortress, then there was work to be done. With his Tower sorted as it had been before he now turned his attention back to his crystal ball and watched.

He had to be careful and precise about his next steps. Those that the world was so quick to label as "villains" could be finicky to deal with, especially considering his past with Ursula and Maleficent. He wasn't too worried. He had a plan, a pitch, to convince them that what he wanted to do was a winning plan. And after they accepted, he had another plan, one that really was the winner, that used the three of them to get exactly what he needed to get to Baelfire. But plan or not, it was still a delicate operation that could fail if he wasn't smart about it. He'd come this far and his time was running out. If he said something or did something that spooked even one of them, then someone might suspect something. And he was certain that if one turned him down, the other three would as well in a heartbeat. If this didn't work, there was no backup plan. Nor was there time to create one. He had one chance to make this work. He'd never felt more nervous in all his life.

He had to choose the timing of his introduction to these women wisely. It was all about knowing which parts of the conversation to skip, and which parts to intrude upon. He watched for a while, until the sun was nearly ready to set as Cruella continued to read her instructions and made her way to the castle in the distance. She was nearly there, but meanwhile, Ursula had arrived. Instead of watching Cruella, he chose to turn his attention instead to the sea witch and the dragon as they exchanged words, probably loud ones, with one another. Neither appeared happy about their meeting, which he was prepared for, but didn't really want or need to have any part of that discussion. Finally, Cruella barged in with her two massive annoyances at her side, just as Jefferson had told him now and years ago. They alerted the women first, their barking and yapping making both take a step back in the face of their jaws. It was a surprising reaction from someone who could turn themselves into a dragon, but even he had to admit, the dogs were terrifying, nothing like the sheepdogs he'd known in his youth. Cruella trailed behind the two of them, but it was only when he saw Maleficent put magic into her staff and point it at the great beasts he realized this time had finally arrived.

Now was the part that he couldn't ignore or simply attempt to translate. He had to hear them. Unfortunately, he knew that Maleficent was too smart not to cast spells on her mirrors, hence using the crystal ball at the moment. There would also probably be spells set up to detect a foreign presence in the castle, but he was betting that with two strangers staring her in the face, she probably wouldn't take notice of him. The women were in a long hall, and atop it there were large dusty windows with long ledges that he doubted any of them would think to look up at. It was to that place that he transported himself, securing himself close to the edge and listening carefully to the conversation that followed.

When he glanced down at them he saw Cruella rise, it appeared that she'd been talking to the two dogs beside her who were now silent and composed.

"Now who's gonna tell me what in the hell I'm doing in this ghastly place?"

"Lovely question, because this 'Ghastly Place' is my home," Maleficent spat back at her, obviously irritated. "And I didn't ask for any visitor."

Villains. They never saw the benefit of working well with others, only of working for themselves. That was the beauty of this, he saw the benefit of working well with these woman, and surprise, surprise…it was to his own benefit. Not that they needed to know that.

"I received specific instructions," Cruella insisted.

"As did I," Ursula inserted.

"I don't care," Maleficent huffed at them both. "You're trespassing. And do you know what I do with trespassers?"

"Don't even think it!"

That was his cue to enter, preferably before the dragon killed them both.

"Now, now, ladies," he called out using his magic to set him down on the floor and approach the women. Their eyes widened when they saw him, even though he was certain only two of them knew who he was. As far as Cruella was concerned, it was probably his face that shocked her. Being in her world she hadn't seen magic on the scale that they used it here. "Don't tear each other apart. I need you all in one piece...or rather, three pieces."

"Rumpelstiltskin, it was you," Maleficent sneered.

"Guilty," he admitted taking a bow before the three.

"Someone wanna tell me why I left the sea for this?" Ursula questioned looking thoroughly unamused.

"Oh, yes. The reason for this little tete-a-tete-a-tete...a-tete," he finished appropriately before pointing to Cruella who was sneering at him. He didn't particularly care and took steps forward so that he was standing at the center of their little group meeting. It was both a way of taking control and of containing any magic if things got too…heated. "We all have something in common, apart from mutual distaste," he went on. "We're villains. And it's time the villains got their happy endings."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I gave you a smallish Jefferson Scene here. But like I said, not the last time you'll see him, even if he thinks so. For details, see the other three A/Ns where we talk about it.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your continued comments. I am sorry that these three chapters divided out sort of weird. None of them really fit together as one chapter with so much going on and yet finding a cut off place, especially between this chapter and the next, was difficult. Still, I hope you'll find that it is okay. I think that these next few chapters are good, they were a lot of fun to write, a lot of fun to figure out. And hey, in just a few short chapters, we've got a brand new section on our hands and I feel rather certain you're going to like it! Peace and Happy Reading!


	94. The Queens of Darkness

"No, I don't understand…what, exactly, are you?!"

"His name is Rumpelstiltskin," Maleficent drawled in answer to Cruella's question.

"The Dark One," Ursula added, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

"He got me hooked on a sleeping potion, how do you know him?" Maleficent questioned.

"He tried to take my family's trident. The question is, how do you _not_ know him?" Ursula answered before turning back to Cruella.

This was a part of the conversation that he'd been prepared for, but not looking forward to. He couldn't just bring three people into a room who had never had any experience with one another and expect them to simply get along and follow his lead. There were bound to be questions. Questions he wanted answered in a certain way and a certain time because the truth was that those questions took time, and time was what they were running out of quickly!

"She's not from around here," he inserted quickly once Cruella opened her mouth. If he didn't control the conversation, then it would run wild, and that was time they couldn't afford to use. He was already surrounded three to one. This was a delicate dance. "She's from another realm entirely, in fact, had to be fetched specifically for this job."

"That odd man works for you?!" Cruella burst out.

"A former associate," he answered. He assumed that by "odd man" she meant Jefferson and that was certainly not a relationship to get into at the moment. It wasn't something he'd planned on addressing, but he was sure to use the word "associate" for an important reason. It let them know he'd worked with other people before. "But enough with the formalities…I have a proposition for you all that I think you'll find most intriguing, in fact, too intriguing to pass up."

"Where you're concerned…not likely," Maleficent sneered.

"I have a problem that requires help from all three of you," he went on, ignoring her and not giving them time to form any kind of bond. He wanted to use them, but the last thing he wanted was for them to see themselves on the same team, a team that didn't include him. It was funny the things that could unite foes, but three people in agreement over something like this could do it. "Shall we discuss this over tea?"

He snapped his fingers and used magic to take them, dogs and all, to another room where a fire was blazing.

"Oh!" Cruella gasped, placing hand over her chest as if she might have a heart attack. Ursula and Maleficent just seemed annoyed. "How did you do that?"

"In this world, magic is more than just halitosis or a parlor trick, dearie," he smiled at her. "I can do all that and more. For example…tea!" He snapped his fingers again, and it appeared before her eyes wide. A realm jumper and now Dark Magic all in one day; he was surprised that she hadn't wet herself, though not surprised to see one of her beasts jump up on the couch to sit beside. Poor Maleficent turned her nose up at it being on her sofa. He was curious. Was the dog protecting her, as Jefferson had said it would? Or was it simply scared for itself?

"Ah…would you care for some?" he questioned, turning and offering a cup to Ursula.

"From you?" she sneered, looking down at it with something like disgust. "Not a chance."

"Good choice, it's probably spiked with something sinister," Maleficent concluded.

"More sinister than you, dearie?" he questioned, turning in her direction.

Maleficent batted her eyelashes at him but never removed her gaze. Simply said, "I'll decline," in a girlish whisper as if she'd been trying to impersonate the princess she'd lost her King too. A tragic tale. But he had noticed that she hadn't kicked him out of her castle yet. That was telling.

"Then that leaves you, dearie…" he offered, turning back to Cruella.

She was doing her best to feign being relaxed, she wanted to be as cool as her other two sister pawns, but her heartbeat betrayed how nervous she actually was. He wasn't surprised when she waved him away and sat back in her seat with her dog.

"Just ate, darling, besides…realm travel and all, it gets to you after a while."

"Very well!" he responded, snapping his fingers and making the tea set disappear again like it had never been there. He took a seat of his own and settled in with ease, but he knew that at the heart of it he was doing the same thing that Cruella was. He was trying to act calm, to maintain the power over the three that he needed, but inside he was potentially more nervous than she was. None of them knew what was on the line for him. If one of them refused to help he could probably work around it but if two or all three of them refused…he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. _If_ he came to it. Until then, he just had to proceed as he'd planned.

"Now then, now that you've met me, I wonder how familiar are you with one another."

"I don't need to be," Maleficent snapped immediately. "I've nothing to do with fish or other realms. I'm sure your both devilish in your own way, but if it doesn't concern King Stefan and his lovely family, I have no need of you."

"Then you are not dreaming big enough, dearie!"

"My dreams are plenty big enough."

He let out a classic high-pitched burst of laughter at her comments. "Heroes…and Villains. I shouldn't need to tell you which the four of us are considered."

"And I am perfectly fine with-"

"Let him speak!" Ursula burst out before she could say another word. She shrugged when Maleficent glared at her.

"You may be perfectly fine with your status, but you don't speak for me."

"Nor me," Cruella chimed in.

"And you don't need to use my home to be taken in by his wild fantasies."

"He says he needs all of us," Cruella insisted.

"You're new here. He says a lot of things. You'll learn that," Maleficent drawled.

"Just hear him out!" Ursula screeched her way.

The three women looked at one another. Cruella and Maleficent gave one another glances of agreement before casting their challenging gazes upon Maleficent. She continued her chilly glare upon them both, and he couldn't have been happier! Already factions were forming. Cruella and Ursula were not "with" him, not exactly. But they were both on the same page and that page was labeled "interested". When they'd first stepped inside this castle there had been four individuals, now those four made three groups: "yes", "no", and "maybe". Considering his end goal was one group of women and himself in the "yes" group, as a separate entity, he was entirely pleased with what he saw happening.

"Fine…talk," Maleficent sneered, looking in his direction.

Perfect.

"There are two kinds of people in the world, and yet both share one dream, a desire for one thing: a happy ending. To see all our hopes and dreams come true! There is only one thing that separates us from the heroes. They get their happy endings. We don't.

"There is a lot more that separates us from them," Maleficent argued.

"Is there?" he questioned. "We battle, and they win—a happy ending for them. Our wants and needs are seen as secondary just because some of our ways to go about getting them are considered 'less than desirable'. They get what they want, they grow stronger, more loved. We don't get what we want, we're branded as 'wrong', 'immoral', and 'monsters'. They have support for their causes, we are cast aside, isolated, flung to the farthest reaches of the realm where we sit and sulk in our lonesome towers while they throw their parties. There is only one difference between us and them," he concluded. "They get what they want, we don't. It is as simple as that, unless…"

"Unless…" Cruella prompted. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, looking more than intrigued at his proposition. And her heartbeat said that she truly wasn't afraid as she had been before or even comfortable as she'd been trying to pretend she was. There was no pretending this time. He had her interest.

"Unless we stop being divided. You have me, Rumpelstiltskin, the greatest wizard that's ever lived. And then there's the three of you, the 'Queens of Darkness' if you will," he pronounced. Cruella visibly shuddered at the name, Ursula stood a little taller, and Maleficent looked away with an eye roll, a reaction typical of her but spoke in volumes. She liked it too; she just didn't want to appear as though she did. "Ursula…the Sea Witch, the powers of the ocean bow to you in all your tentacely glory. Cruella De Vil, questionable as that breath of yours is, you have the ability to command beasts at your will. And speaking of beasts, Maleficent-"

"You'll stop right there," she insisted letting her staff hit the floor with a resounding thud! "They may be willing to give up all their secrets on a whim, but I'm not about to. I'm going to need a lot more information first."

Two down and one…moving in her fellow witches' direction. Maleficent had gone from wanting him and the pair out of her castle to requesting more information. It was a vast improvement that threatened to make him downright giddy. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but it was hard not to when he considered the fact that a few days ago he'd been preparing for Anna's arrival, and now the curse he had hunted for decades was within his grasp in only a few short hours. He was so close he could taste it! But this time, he wasn't going to let that be a distraction to him, not like he had with the hat. He couldn't be careless, he had to focus! If that incident had taught him anything, it was that this wasn't over until he was back in his tower hiding and protecting the curse with spell after spell after spell.

"And how are we going to get that information if you won't let him finish a sentence?" Cruella demanded suddenly.

"You can't speak to me like that in my own home!" Maleficent roared back.

"I just did, darling. Now then…this happy ending shenanigan you're promising us, can you really do that? Are you really that powerful?"

"Yeah, he's powerful, but not that powerful," Maleficent answered quickly.

"No one is," Ursula added.

"Love how you underestimate me. Adorable!" he responded without letting his confidence fail, though, if they could hear his heartbeat now, it would betray him. The small spat between Maleficent and Cruella was a reminder of just how focused he needed to be. Though they'd solved it on their own, for the most part, it just as easily could have gone the other way. He had to maintain his control.

"What exactly are you offering, short stuff?" Cruella questioned.

"Only the answer to all your prayers."

"I'm not exactly the religious sort," she retorted.

"Shocked."

"Look!" All at once and without warning or even foresight on his behalf, she was out of her seat, rushing at him with a cold, steely look in her eyes. She hurdled herself forward until she was right in front of him, mere inches from his face. He didn't allow himself to be shocked or look startled in the least. He'd faced worse than a female devil in heels who could barely keep her clothes on. "I was quite content with my life until I received this summons, and I do not appreciate being dragged around on false promises!"

"Nothing false about it, dearie," he stated rising to his feet so they were nearly nose to nose. "I know exactly what you want, and you," he added looking at Ursula, who straightened her back and looked interested, before he turned to look at Maleficent, "and you." She looked less than interested.

"Really?" she questioned skeptically.

"Really."

It was a lie. An outright lie. In truth, he knew very little about the three of them compared to what he knew about people he typically made deals with. For two of them, he could probably take a fairly accurate guesses as to what they really wanted, for Cruella he couldn't even begin to guess what she'd want aside from a dog groomer, that would take time. The only honest thing he knew about all of them is that they were villains in this great story Merlin had put them in, they were villains like him, and that meant that they wanted something. If nothing else, he could use that and ask the Seer for information later.

"But don't worry," he added, moving around her and back into the center of their small circle. "I'm not one to betray trusts, so your secrets can remain your own. What I will share is what we all have in common...a desire for happiness, a desire to do what villains can never do: to win." He let that sit for a moment. He didn't need to know what they wanted most of all, only they did. They needed to know. They needed to let the potential of it fill them up so that they could picture it in their heads and get hooked on the idea of having it all as so many villains like themselves did. "And I'm here to show you how, together."

"Even if we would work together, no spell known to man or woman can do what you're saying."

"Of course not, dearie!" he corrected, turning to look at his hardest sell. After all these years he'd thought that getting Regina to come by and help her extract her revenge on dear Aurora might have lessened the sting of what she'd asked him to do all those years ago. But alas, sometimes the one negative in being the orchestrator of all his deeds meant that they went unnoticed and unappreciated. "But we're not looking for a spell. We're looking for a curse. A _dark_ curse," he clarified, turning to the rest of the group. "One that, if you help procure it, can get each and every one of you exactly what you want. Your..." he said to Cruella before turning to Ursula, "happy..." finally, he turned to the tricky one, the dragon "ending."

With all of them staring at him, he took his seat. It wasn't the easiest thing in the room to work a deal with three people at the same time, but he was confident he'd done it at least with two of them. Maleficent seemed a bit more…distrusting. Her head was cocked to the side, and he could see the wheels in that horned head of hers turning. They were so close, just a single word from any would do it now. Finally, Maleficent stepped forward, her staff making a clunking sound every time it hit the floor, echoing over and over in the stone room. When she stood toe to toe with him and towered above his resting form her eyes narrowed, and he nearly shivered. It was a shame. Picturesque as they were, she might have made an excellent leader of this group; if it weren't for him.

"Prove it," the dragon demanded in a quiet but menacing tone.

He smiled. Mission accomplished.

"Gladly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't happy about where the last chapter had to break off but it's mostly because of this one. This scene needed so much framing added to it just to begin to fit into the story that it was ridiculous. Everything from being in a different room, to the single teacup sitting out, to the women talking comfortably in chairs and on the couches, it was always obvious that we'd missed something and that was what I had to fill in. Plus, this deal is ultimately a super important one for Rumple, so it was kind of fun to be in his head for this one.
> 
> Big thank yous to RolfB fr your comments on the last chapter, simple as it was. I'm hoping that you'll enjoy this one a little bit more. I fretted for a good long while over whether or not I kept the Queens in character or not but on a lot of my edits and read-throughs, I forget where the scene begins and ends, which is usually a good sign that everyone was kept in character. I hope you'll agree. And now if you are ready, we're on to the main event! Peace and Happy Reading!


	95. On the Clock

His proof wasn't proof at all, it was the main event. His plan was easy. Get the Dark Curse and then protect it. As for the women, it was his hope that at the end of this...test, there would be nothing left of them.

At Maleficent's bidding, he used his magic to carry not just himself but the three women right back to where he'd been days ago, the ledge of Bald Mountain. In that very spot, he'd first felt the drain of the natural magic and realized that what was coming might have been far more difficult than he realized. Now, with defensive potions rushing through his blood, he felt it less, but the feeling was still there, just dulled. They had to hurry and get the job done before the natural magic wore away at what he'd swallowed, and his potions broke down. They also had to get this done preferably before the women began to ask questions.

The door stood before them now, still uncovered by snow, just as he'd left it. A risky move, he knew, but the truth was that after his last encounter, he hadn't possessed the energy required to glamour it. He'd taken a bet on these mountains being deserted and, so far, it looked like the bet had paid off. He extended his senses, searching for obvious differences and especially for Fairy Magic that might have been at work, but nothing came to him. It all seemed just as he'd left it.

At his sides, he cast a glance at the women. Did they feel what he did? One of them, at least, was capable of feeling the drain of the natural magic that he'd first felt. But he didn't know if Maleficent was studied enough to pick up on it. Regina probably wouldn't have. She'd taken magic and made it her craft, whereas he was made of magic, only alive today because of it. It made sense that he could feel it more than them. Cruella, even if he knew whether or not her magic was that advanced, he didn't know if she was studied enough to feel it, and as for Ursula, well, she was the challenge. Part of the drain came from running water and salt, but the former Mermaid grew up in saltwater. He didn't know if it would affect her the way it affected him. But his questioning proved useless. As he looked from one to the other, he saw no difference in the way they carried themselves. When they first arrived, their gazes went from confusion to amazement, and that was where they stayed. If they noted the natural magic, they didn't let on.

That was good. It was why they were here. Their own natural magic was what he needed and should be undisturbed by the changes in the magic around them. This could work, so long as Maleficent stayed focused on not trusting him and not on what the magic she'd taught herself over the years told her. They had to move.

"The Curse resides here…Bald Mountain," he proclaimed to the women around him. He raised his arm but made sure not to take a step as he magically opened the doors to the tunnel. When they did, he could practically taste the salt and limestone that threatened to dampen his own abilities, but this time he'd prepared for it and didn't let them see what he felt. It was all a show, and he kept his magical mask in place. If he used magic now, they might not question his strength and power as they proceeded. It was just a magic trick.

Before stepping forward, he used his abilities once more to create a torch for the women, knowing that would be the last he used his magic until he had the Curse in hand. It was a simple feat but important. He didn't need to see in the dark, but they did. When it was time, and he left, he'd take their light with him as well. That would pose a problem for them.

"I don't see a curse," Maleficent drawled unimpressed as she looked over the mountain before them.

"Well, you didn't expect it to just be sitting there, now did you?" He stepped first into the crude tunnel that reeked of fairy magic and dwarves and listened to the sound of the footsteps behind him. They were following where he led. It was poetic and perfect. "It's protected by a variety of lethal magic obstacles-obstacles that suit your very specific talents."

Natural talents. Talents that would work even if he couldn't use his own. And the first was beginning to show now. The doors to the chamber were up ahead, and just as they had been earlier, they were covered by the beetle-like creatures he'd encountered first a few days earlier.

"Blood scarabs," he instructed as the three of them came to a stop. Chances were good that Maleficent and Ursula knew the dangers of them, if only by name, but Cruella he couldn't be sure about. Did they have these in her world? "The only thing stronger than their venom is their bloodlust. Cruella, I believe with your powers of persuasion, they'll be as harmless as puppy dogs."

Familiar or not, she sauntered over to the creatures, and he watched as she knelt down before the Sentinel who had smelled blood and picked it up in her hand.

"I've got a little job for you, darling." Her whisper echoed through the tunnel and back to them. "Now, run along and tell the others." The next moment, he saw the bug leave her hand with traces of a greenish glow on its back and wings. It joined its swarm, and the light spread quickly, then the bugs scattered, the door was revealed and opened before them. "That's how it's done, darlings," Cruella gloated as he walked past her and ushered the women into the chamber.

One problem down, three to go.

The room, just like the mountain, looked just as he'd left it. A round surface, large rocks of granite and limestone and salt, put there to hamper his magic, to stifle him. The Blue Fairy had never assumed he'd find her loophole.

"The Dark Curse…"

It sat just where he'd left it, on the opposite side of the room, following a long bridge raised above a cavern. Oh, to take it now! But at the opposite side of the room, fire suddenly erupted, bursting forth from nowhere at the detection of their presence. Soon the beast would awaken. They needed to hurry.

"Fire," he commented, tossing his own torch into the blaze. He was sure to them it seemed a harmless move, but now the die was cast. He had two hands to carry the Curse from this place, and they'd have no light. "Forged from the breath of dragons. Maleficent, I believe this is your area of expertise."

He stepped back and allowed Maleficent to step forward. The Dragon Queen was calm as she approached, taking her staff with her. She might not have trusted him and this little outing, but she, like most villains, couldn't resist an opportunity to show off. He watched as she held her staff in front of her and drew a breath so deep that even he felt as he watched her back expand. The fire drew closer to her, attracted by what she was. She used that ability of hers to control it, to contain it. Slowly it snaked itself around her and then into the mouth of the iron dragon that sat upon her staff. And then it was gone. And to the average individual, it might have appeared that was it. The fairies might assume that the fire and the scarabs and the Chernabog, wherever he was lying in wait, as well as the natural magic were enough to deter any who dared to enter, but they were wrong. With the fire gone, he could still smell the fairy magic in the air. It lingered in wait, a trap he hadn't figured out yet and wasn't about to learn. That was what Ursula was for.

"Next time, maybe something challenging," Maleficent remarked as she rejoined the crowd. He ignored her and kept his eyes on that prize. His mouth had gone suddenly dry, this was the day he'd been waiting for.

"And now...Ursula, if you don't mind."

The sea witch didn't comment, just walked forward as tentacles, long and green and somehow gleaming with something wet, snaked out from under her skirts. One lashed forward and grabbed the ball at the center of the podium, then recoiled back.

All at once, he felt something smooth drop into his hands. His heart skipped a beat.

"This what you're looking for?"

"Indeed."

Power. Oh, it was powerful. Bald Mountain was a place filled with natural magic, and he'd understood since he found it that they'd needed to camouflage it here, to keep him from sensing the magic too easily, but he was surprised even as he held the ball in his hand that it had worked. The power inside this ball was deep. It was fairy magic, without a doubt. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected to sense fairy magic inside of it, but that was what he felt radiating off it. It hummed in his hands, it purred for him as if it had found its mate. It was as if they both knew they were made for one another. He felt his hands shake, and his skin warmed to the point of burning just by touching it. He struggled to control his own heartbeat. If this was what it felt like muted inside Bald Mountain, he couldn't wait to get back to his castle and see what it could really do.

But they weren't done yet. Three obstacles down, one to go, literally for him, because it was going to allow him the time he needed to flee though with the ball in his hand…maybe not the way he'd planned. Feeling the magic coming off of the glass ball, he suddenly had a brand new plan.

Right on cue, he felt the mountain begin to tremble and shake, there was the sound of rocks moving above, but nothing fell. That was especially his cue to go.

"What the hell?" Maleficent cried out.

"What is going on?" Cruella questioned.

"I'm leaving with my prize," he answered, allowing his voice to rise. He threw out his hand as if preparing to cast a spell but didn't, not yet, at least. "And you? Uh, you're about to die. I forgot to mention there's one more thing guarding the Curse. The Chernabog...an ancient demon that feeds on evil. It seeks out the heart with the greatest potential for darkness and devours it. That's why I really needed you three. Adieu."

And then he drew on the power from the globe, he pulled it forth so that it's darkness met his own. His heart began to race. It pounded so fast he would have easily had a heart attack if he'd been human. Instead, he used it to overpower the natural magic around him and open the door to the chamber. He felt dizzy. His gaze skewed, and his vision pitched. He felt sick to his stomach as he managed to walk back through the door and used his magic to close and seal the chamber so that the women couldn't follow. He stumbled when he made it outside, he was deaf to what was going on inside that chamber but didn't particularly care. What did it matter to him if he never saw Ursula, Cruella, or Maleficent again? He swallowed as he held the globe up before him and peered inside. Its power was growing, and he knew it would continue to do so the farther he got from this place. And looking at it now, he knew the source of that wasn't a glass globe.

It was the scroll lodged inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but obviously, in the fiction entitled "The Dark Curse" it's probably the most important chapter in the entire thing. Rumple finally has the Curse he's hunted in hand! BUT, that does not mean we're done with this section. We still have two chapters left before we move onto the next section. One you probably know is coming as this is still, technically, "The Frozen Section" and there remains one Frozen scene we have not yet seen. The other scene, well...you'll have to read it to see what I've concocted.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your very kind comments on the last chapter. Glad you liked it. This is another one that I fear didn't translate so well from screen to page so I'm interested in hearing what you have to say about it. Ultimately there's not much here that we didn't see on the screen, but there was a lot of planning that went into it to make it that way. Hopefully, that comes through from Rumple's thoughts. Peace and Happy Reading!


	96. Unnecessary Dramatics

In his head, he carried with him a list of the happiest, most breathtaking moments of his life. The day Baelfire was born topped them, the night that he'd held his son in his arms after Milah's departure and accepted he could be a single parent was another. He cherished the first time that Baelfire had told him he might want to be a spinner like he was, the first time his son had called him "Papa", the day he'd sent him to school, and the first time he'd learned to walk and came right to him.

Those moments, those happy fleeting moments, were few and far between since Baelfire had left, but this moment, this moment was one of them.

He arrived back in his foyer now, completely unaware of what was going on back in the cave with the Chernabog and unable to care because in his hand was a glass bauble with a scroll inside. And now that he had it out of that cavern, the full brunt of its magic was hitting him. Oh, he'd never felt so much power from a spell or potion or curse or…anything! Not since he'd become the Dark One, not in all his life. Inside of him, there was a shudder from every Dark One that had ever walked the face of the earth. Even Nimue was speechless. They'd never felt anything like this either. Ever. And the fact that it was made with Fairy Magic…

He closed his eyes as he breathed it in. It tingled. He felt the sensation from his arm to his shoulders and down to the soles of his feet. It was beautiful, truly beautiful! And it was easily one of the happiest moments in his long life. For in his hand, he held the key, the answer to all his problems. In his hand was finally the way back to Baelfire. He'd done it. He could have cried with joy.

"I'm coming, Bae," he whispered. "Just a bit longer. Just a bit-"

A noise, a small rustling, stopped him mid-sentence. It was coming from the Great Room. It was the sound of fabric rustling. Someone was in his home, moving around.

The Apprentice? Had he entered his home, gotten past his protective spells while he'd been away, and he just hadn't noticed because of the Natural Magic?

No. That wasn't it. He was here now, no Natural Magic in the way and he didn't feel an intruder was in his home. But if not the Apprentice…then who…

He glanced down at the glass ball in his hand. His first instinct was the send it to his Tower for safekeeping, but he didn't like the idea of leaving it anywhere he wasn't until it was properly warded and guarded. It would take only a second for it to be stolen, and he'd been too careful to let one careless decision change that. He could put it in his doorless vault but…

No. In one swift motion, he applied pressure to the glass. First, it cracked, then splintered, then shattered so that what he was left with was just the scroll in his hand. Now he knew why it had been in a bauble. It felt like the power doubled when it touched his bare skin. This Curse, Fairy magic or not, it was as though it called to him, as though it was his other half, like it had been made just for him and was rejoicing they were together. When he'd been with Cora and Margery and even Milah he'd had small brief moments where he'd felt powerful, when he'd moved inside of them and experienced a few moments of uninhibited bliss and ecstasy. If he continued to hold to his skin like this, it might just lead to that.

So he slipped it carefully into the pocket of his cloak. Until he could protect it and set things right, it wasn't going to leave his side.

He waved his hand at the door and hit it with a blast of magic so powerful they slammed open and hit the walls with a loud crack that told him he'd have to do some repairs after all this was done. He strode into his Great Room with confidence, prepared to face whatever foe had come after him…and found Regina.

She was sitting with her back to him in a chair by the fire, a long black gown falling over the legs that he knew had to be crossed one on top of the other. When he circled around the chair to meet her gaze, the firelight flickered over half her face so that in the shadow, she looked just like her mother. Her expression was cool. Her demeanor was calm as she sipped at a cup of tea and stared into the fireplace. But when she spoke, her voice…her voice would never be Cora's.

"Where have you been?!" she demanded in a low voice, as if she was a lover he returned to every night instead of a woman he'd only seen through glimpses in a mirror over the last few years. "I've been waiting for hours!"

"I'm sorry, did we have an appointment?" he snipped back with a smile. "It's hard to remember since when we last saw one another you decided you didn't need me to study magic." He was on the clock, he had things to do, and while he always had time for the Regina who would one day cast the curse in his pocket what he didn't have time for at the moment was her bullshit. Years of studying on her own, dedicating herself to hunting down her step-daughter, sleeping with a man who's heart she held captive…what did she need him for? And vise versa. When the time came, he'd be ready to engage in some kind of relationship with her again, but not at this very moment. At this moment, he had to hide his curse!

"You said I was welcome to drop by whenever I had questions."

"I said you could drop by; I never said I'd be here."

"I've been summoning you. You didn't come," she explained gracefully setting the teacup aside and lifting herself out of the chair. She made her way across the room to the mirror he had in the corner, the mirror that used to be his link to her. "And this used to be where I could contact you when I needed you."

He resisted the compulsion to nod at her words. The Natural Magic, it must have kept him from being summoned or even taking note of it. Interesting.

"There are some places not even I can be reached, dearie," he answered, following her steps and sneaking up behind her. "And this may come as quite a shock to you, but I'm a busy man! I don't exist to be at your beck and call. I've deals to make, things to steal…"

"Others to teach?" she questioned with a hint of something in her voice that made him shudder for a moment. It wasn't jealousy like her sister, thank goodness! He didn't think that he was prepared to go through that again. But what he actually heard might be just as bad. Suspicion. She was suspicious that he was teaching someone else? Or just suspicious that he was helping someone else? Or was it that she suspected he was involved with someone and wanted him for herself as her mother had led him to believe and her sister had. So many, many options. And so little, little interest in it as the curse burned a hole in his pocket.

"Now, I assume that what's brought you to my humble abode for the first time in so many years isn't tea and crumpets. What is it you need, Regina?"

Regina gazed into the mirror that connected him to her palace for a few seconds longer before finally sighing and turning away. He made a mental note to drape a blanket over the thing.

"I have a problem," she declared as she moved closer to the table.

He let out a high-pitched squeal of amusement. "Well, that's always been clear. The question is which problem would you like to discuss."

"My step-daughter."

"Ah! You mean the frilly little princess you let slip through your fingers and is slowly becoming one of the most notorious bandits your Kingdom has ever seen."

Regina stretched her fingers out on his table and hunched her shoulders as if his words had hit her with a whip. He pulled the chair at the end out and sat down just so that he could watch her nose wrinkle as if she'd smelled the foulest of trash.

"I don't know how she's still eluding capture."

"Oh, she's not eluding capture, dearie, she's just eluding you," he pointed out quickly.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"We both know what it means." It was just as he'd suspected. Bullshit. Dramatic bullshit. He didn't have time for it. He didn't have time to coddle her and rub her back and make her feel better about herself! And even if he did, he didn't want to do it. She was beginning to meet her end, his dear Regina. She was beginning to enter into the state of crazed single-mindedness that he needed for what he had in his pocket. But he wanted-no! He _needed_ her to be worse than this! She was here because her hunter couldn't satisfy, because being queen couldn't satisfy, because being her father's daughter, his student, half a dozen other things that she was didn't satisfy! She just hadn't figured that out yet herself. It was good bullshit. But something he needed her to experience.

"Your guards have had her in their grip half a dozen times since she snuck away into the forest and your…plaything let her go."

She winced. Then turned her gaze back on him with wide fiery eyes. "Have you been spying on me?"

He let out another chuckle. How foolish of her to forget exactly who she was dealing with! "Only every year since you were born, dearie! And the way I see things you should have everything you've ever wanted! Snow White is a wanted criminal thanks to you. You've ordered her execution, yet she continues to elude you. Why?"

"Because she's clever."

"Because you're thinking like an ignorant girl!" he declared boldly. The look on her face told him she wasn't pleased with his choice of words, but he didn't particularly care. Let her be angry. It could only help him. "You let her escape by giving her time."

"I do no such thing!"

"Quiet!" he ordered, holding a hand up to silence her. It worked. The time for the casting of his curse wasn't now, he knew that already, but the way she closed her mouth and recoiled at his command confirmed it. The woman he needed wouldn't do such a thing. "Your guards capture her, they attempt to bring her to you, and she escapes, when there is no reason for any of that. There is no need for her to be brought back to you, just have her killed on the spot."

Regina's response was only to drop her gaze back down to the wood of the table in a huff.

"Oh…" he teased, finally ready to get to the issue at hand. "Unless that takes away all the fun for you."

"Fun?" Regina chuckled. "You think I'm having fun bringing that criminal to justice."

"But of course!" he declared rising from his seat and striding over to where she stood. "Because this isn't really about justice. Not anymore. This is about revenge and how good it would feel for you to take the heart of the woman who killed the love of your life and crush it in your own bare hands just as she crushed yours so long ago!" he spat through gritted teeth. "Now wouldn't that be so much more satisfying than hearing of her execution from your guards."

She didn't answer, not verbally, at least. But he watched as the breaths she took began to come deeper and quicker. Sometimes silence could be damning all on its own. And her silence…it spoke in volumes to what she wasn't ready to say out loud.

"How easily you forget, dearie…I see everything. Over these last few years, your sorcery skills have grown, they are second only to your ruthlessness."

"And that's a bad thing?!" she demanded.

"Oh! No, no, no! Quite the opposite! You've made me proud as a Papa!" he smiled at her. Here now, dressed in black with charcoal around her eyes and her hair all done up in a fancy bun atop her head…she was a far cry from the scared little girl he'd once encountered in a dark room before her wedding. He'd always known she would be. And now the rest of the realm was coming to discover it too.

"Kings and Queens from near and far all recognize the power you have, and I couldn't be more impressed with how far you've come."

"No!" she resisted suddenly, slapping her hand against the table before standing up tall and looking down on him. It was the look of a queen. "Power has nothing to do with this…I'm not trying to be ruthless I'm trying to be a Queen! To stop a murderer and thief that is terrorizing my Kingdom!"

"Only by proxy. Eh…you do realize she didn't kill her father, don't you? That was on you."

"She killed Danial."

"I repeat…only by proxy. And she's only thief because you've made her one. And as for terrorizing your Kingdom…I think if you looked harder at those you think you are protecting, you'll find quite a different story."

He felt victory swirl through him as her hard gaze challenged his own in a duel there was no sense in having. He'd won. She knew it. Her posturing for effect was pointless because whether she wanted to say it or not, she knew in her heart what she'd become and that everything he'd said had been the absolute truth. One day she would admit it. One day he'd get to see how the Seer's prediction of Regina and Robin of Locksley played out before him. One day she might be something very different than she was now. But for now, she was who she was. And who she was, was a Queen who wanted her step-daughter dead and nothing else.

"I need a spell," she stated emotionlessly, quickly changing the subject back to their original topic. "I need something to stop her from evading capture so I can get her back and make them see what I see. Make them see me as their Queen, just as they should."

He smiled, his mind thinking automatically of half a dozen different spells and at least two dozen potions that could do what she wanted. But that wouldn't get him what he wanted.

"Sorry, can't help you," he dismissed before turning his back on her and moving away. Behind him, he heard her dress ruffle and her heals clack and thud against carpet and stone in order to move around him and face him once more.

"What do you mean you can't help me?!" she asked, pushing a hand against his chest so he'd stop walking.

"I mean that while there are several different spells and potions that could be cast, it's not worth my time or effort to make them. They often require blood of the victim; you don't have that because you don't have her. Others require the victim to drink it themselves, and I don't see her submitting to that, nor do I see your thugs in black being able to trick her into it. Still, others require the cursing of locked doors, and there are simply too many for that. My time is more valuable than joining you on your wild goose chase."

Her chest heaved for a moment, and the sounds from the fire in the grate seemed far louder than they should have been as he saw angry tears gather in his student's eyes. "I don't believe you," she breathed. "All those times you promised to be by my side, to help me-"

"To help you learn magic, dearie!" he corrected. She shook her head and looked away, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "If memory serves correctly, you've learned it! If you want to spend the rest of your life cursing locks or making enough potion to give to all the guards hunting her in all the lands, then be my guest. In the meantime, I'm going to focus on something that might actually help us one day."

Regina swallowed and looked back at him with a spark of hope reigniting. He had her interest once more. "Us…"

"You," he clarified with a nod. It was the only part of the "us" that she'd actually cared about.

"What are you working on?" she inquired, her voice lightening to that of a child all over again.

"Ah-h-h, dearie!" he exclaimed, wagging a finger in front of her. "That is for me to know and you to find out when the time is right."

Regina rolled her eyes dramatically and turned away from him, angry once more. "Fine. If you won't help me, I'll join the search for Snow White myself!"

If she only knew…

"Rest assured!" he called after her. "If what I am working on is as powerful as I think it is, then it has the power to make sure all your hopes and dreams come true. It will be a masterpiece!" His throat caught as he breathed out, a wave of emotion coming on unexpectedly as he suddenly felt the power of the scroll stir in his pocket.

Regina, however, rested her hand on the back of his chair and tapped her nails along the wood in obvious irritation at his lack of answers. More bullshit he wasn't going to deal with. He'd already dealt with more than he'd wanted to from her on this most special of nights.

"Now leave me," he insisted. "Come back when you actually have an idea instead of grasping at the air, hoping to get lucky and find a rope to cling to."

"You are…impossible. You know that?" she snapped before he felt her magic stir and carrying her away from him in a cloud of black.

Alone at last, he sighed and reached into his pocket. He pulled the scroll free and held it up to the firelight to admire it for just a few seconds before he had to get to work.

"Yes…yes, I do…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a scene that we never saw, one I came up with on my own and I felt that we needed it. While writing this fiction, it was about at this time that I started to realize we hadn't heard from or even about Regina for a while. And because I was beginning to contemplate the next section I was beginning to realize that the next time we see Rumple and Regina together there is a tension between them that wasn't there the last time we saw them together. So I inserted this chapter here to bridge the gap between the two. And in the end, I loved the irony of the fact that what she seeks is in his pocket, she just doesn't know it yet.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I really do hope that you don't mind this chapter. I know that when a fiction is super long like this one is sometimes these unexpected chapters seem like torture. But I hope you'll see the need for this one. I hope you'll see the reason I put it in and maybe even enjoy it a bit. And hey, one last chapter in the Frozen section and you've made it! Kudos to you! I promised you would! Peace and Happy Reading!


	97. Endless Possibilities

After Regina had left, he'd wasted little time in taking his prize up into his tower. It was there that the full brunt of the last few days came crashing down on him. It was a weight that he'd never felt before. It pushed down against him, an opposition to the buoyancy of joy he felt when he held that scroll in his hand. He'd done it! According to plan! He'd known he could, and perceived that he would, and yet he was left breathless at the realization that it had actually worked! The hat might have been out of his reach, but the Curse was in his possession! All his dreams of "someday" had become "today". He would have loved to spend the next ten years staring at it in awe, feeling it curl its power around him. But getting the Curse was not the end goal. It was only a single step in his plan. A big step, he readily admitted, but still only one of many. And so long as he was holding it in his hand, his job wasn't done yet.

He spent hours hiding it. Simply put, it was concealed behind a stone in his fireplace. Not so simple however, were the hours and hours of spells that he placed around it. Every concealment potion he'd ever crafted was used to try and hide the spell from others who could sense magic. He used blood magic to seal and lock the wall, allowing only himself, his blood, or those of his choosing into the hiding place. He placed detection enchantments over it so he'd know if someone so much as sneezed the wrong way around it. And he used Dark Magic, some of the darkest he knew to give it a protection against all forms of Light Magic and that included Fairies. If anyone who shouldn't so much as stood next to it they'd receive quite the blast of magic that would throw them across the room and paralyze them if not knock them unconscious completely. It would give him enough time to return and decide what to do to the thief who dared to take it. But he didn't stop with just the Curse, he used the blood he'd taken from the rodent-Apprentice to craft a powerful spell against him. Inspired by the same wards the man had used on his house to keep Dark Ones away, he crafted one to keep the Apprentice out; it was time to fight fire with fire.

When he was done, when he was sure all was as it should be, he allowed himself to breathe. Then, he summoned his crystal ball into his hand. In it, the Apprentice lay, an old man once more, on the bed resting soundly. There was no indication he knew something had happened to the Curse. No visit from the fairies, no stumbling about in panic, Ingrid had visited him the other day, but he didn't even appear to be bothered by that.

It was perfect. He couldn't believe he'd succeeded. He spent the day in his Tower spinning, working, and nervously watching the space he knew the Curse was. He did want to take it out, to study it, to learn from it, but it was too risky now. He needed to lay low for a few days, let it adjust to its new home. And so he sat there, spinning away in his Tower, on guard, and when night fell…it was then that he felt something inside of him go alert.

It was a feeling like he'd never experienced before. One minute he'd been fine, and the next, he felt as though part of his magic had been muted or silenced altogether. No, it wasn't just his magic. It was Dark One Magic. He glanced around his surroundings. Nothing was different. Nothing was changed. He held out his hand in the direction of the fireplace, and fire sparked to life, the appropriate place, the appropriate reaction. He put his hands over his potions, he felt their magic just as he always had. He stepped closer to the stone the Curse was hidden behind and placed his hand over it. The Blood Magic heated at his touch but cooled when it recognized him. The potion was still there, the spells and enchantments all the same. His magic was intact. Whatever he felt hadn't come from him. It was beyond these walls.

He stepped closer to the cauldron and checked on the Apprentice, a benefit of using his blood to banish him from the property meant he could finally see inside his house without the Crystal Ball, but only through reflections, like before. He was awake, but sweeping his home looking rather bored. This wasn't his doing. One by one, he examined the lives of those he meddled in, those who mattered to his future. Belle was with her father and Gaston, discussing something or other. James was in his chambers with a leggy blonde. David was bringing the sheep in for the night. Snow White he found resting her head in a hollowed log, a place she'd come to call her own not far from Red and Granny. And Regina was with her Hunter, experimenting with positions he'd rather not watch.

The cauldron cleared as he sighed. He still felt it. The odd muffle within him remained. But what was it?! When the usual suspects failed, he was forced to examine the unusual ones. Zelena? No. He saw her in Oz sitting down to eat, all was well. Jefferson? By his daughter's bedside reading a child's book as she fell asleep, not a threat. At Nimue's insistence, he cast his gaze upon the tree that held Merlin captive, but it hadn't moved. Anna?

Anna. The moment he summoned the image of the Princess of Arendelle, there was no doubt in his mind about what he was feeling. It was her. And what he saw…it wasn't pretty. To begin with, he couldn't actually see Anna. The mirror he'd tried to look in on her with…it was covered with something. Not a blanket, it wasn't blackness, and it wasn't a cloth that moved. It was stiff and hard, and it had a pattern to it. It was ice.

He turned to the Crystal Ball for answers, demanding it show him Anna of Arendelle, and he nearly did a flip of joy at what he saw. She was frozen. Head to toe. She was nothing but icy magic. An Elemental had finally unleashed her power.

"Show me her sister," he demanded with a smile, looking forward to seeing the aftermath of the one that had stolen something so precious. He could handle Elsa easily enough. All he wanted was to find the hat and take it for himself! The idea that he might get through all this with the hat in hand after all made him nearly giddy.

Until what the ball showed him wasn't Elsa, but an urn; his urn. It was the one he'd given to Anna's aunt Ingrid for emergencies, the one he'd seen discovered in the North Mountain but hadn't watched because there were more important things going on. Perhaps he should have watched. He wouldn't say he was paying for it, he'd had two choices, the first was to go after the urn and the second had been to retrieve the Curse. If given the opportunity, he'd do the same thing all over again. But perhaps he would have watched Arendelle's royal family a bit closer so that this never came as a surprise. He would have gotten the Curse and then figured out exactly how Ingrid of Arendelle had gotten out of the urn and managed to make her way to Apprentice's house instead of forgetting until this moment. Still, not an ideal situation to retrieve it and make inquiries about the hat…but what he saw next was.

How had the urn gotten from the North Mountain back to Arendelle? The Crystal Ball sensed his question before he could ask it, and what he saw was a story unraveling before him. He watched as Anna of Arendelle stood, facing off with another woman. She was blonde and pale, so pale she was nearly the color of snow. She was wearing a familiar set of gloves. Queen Elsa of Arendelle, it could be no one else. But why the two sisters were fighting, why she'd just taken off that remarkable necklace of hers and tossed it into the fire…it was beyond him. He couldn't listen into the past. And then he saw something he hadn't expected something so shocking that he hadn't thought to ever check in on her! Ingrid. Their aunt. Lurking in their castle.

And then, Anna of Arendelle, the girl who loved her sister so much, used the urn. And Elsa didn't stop her. She didn't fight back. It was as if she knew it was coming! She simply crossed her hands over her chest and continued speaking to her sister as she pulled the top off the urn, and Ingrid watched as it did its job and swallowed Elsa as it had once swallowed her. Whatever Ingrid wanted in all of this, whatever her plan was, it wasn't to take over Arendelle. It wasn't for Elsa to be gone and her to be Queen, not with a reaction like she had. She was upset with Anna, shocked. Furious.

Though Anna reeled looking suddenly confused, a look that told him without a shadow of a doubt she'd been under some kind of spell when she'd done what she'd done, Ingrid was angry. She pried the urn from Anna's hands and held it close. She guarded it as the boy he'd seen on the mountain, the one who had helped to retrieve the urn, came running into the room a weapon raised. But he'd never get to use it. In the next moment he saw what had triggered the magic he'd felt within him, Ingrid froze Anna. And the boy. And the room. And the palace. And then he watched as all of the land of Arendelle froze solid. All but her. A powerful Elemental indeed. But not more powerful than he was. The Curse was safe, and he wasn't about to leave magic that was free to be claimed or reclaimed, in his case, sitting about!

When he arrived he took stock of the situation before him, one that was not unfamiliar to what he saw in the mirror. Still, there was one difference, there was a very clear stench around the room, around all of Arendelle that even he recognized though he rarely dealt in it himself, most recently in Belle's father. Troll Magic. And the reason it smelled so badly now? Because she was doing it now. She hadn't noticed he'd come into the room because she was on the opposite side, using a round rock to pull forth memories from the urn in her hands. A powerful Elemental and witch. Shame he'd never been able to train her himself. If he had, then he knew he would never have gotten this close without her noticing.

"I see someone's been practicing their rock-troll memory magic," he announced, allowing her to turn and notice him finally in the room. "Quite impressive, dearie." With her watching, he finally turned around to examine the two statues standing in the room. The male he didn't care for but seeing Princess Anna frozen in ice and unable to move had a satisfying touch of irony to it that he appreciated. Perhaps now she'd see how fun it was not to have control over one's body. "You know, I prefer her better this way. More cooperative. Less mouthy. Oh!" he exclaimed suddenly. Ingrid's magic wasn't the only magic in the room; something called to him from the fireplace. Something with a power that he recognized but doubted Ingrid would because she'd given up her ribbon all those years ago thinking it was useless. Anna's necklace still contained its power, even after everything that had happened. An impressive bit of magic it was becoming. "But this? This was much lovelier when it was around her neck. You know...when she was breathing."

 _Suddenly there was an image in his head of this very necklace. It was sitting in the shop on a shelf, stood up displayed well. And then the image changed to something more. In his hands, human hands he held a white card. There was something called a photograph in the top corner. It was a picture of the necklace. And on the card there were typed words. His vision flashed. He felt his arm around someone and another arm around his waist. There was a smile. And then he was back to the card he'd held, the words suddenly clear._ "Silver. Cut well. Damaged. Slightly burned. Slightly warped. Repairable. Fair condition. Current price: $200. Estimated repair costs: $150. Fully restored price: $300. Additional Notes: The repair isn't profitable but should someone buy it refer the buyer to jewelry repair so they can spend the extra fifty dollars themselves." _The thought_ "not worth my time" _entered his head and then..._

 _"Priceless"_ the Seer whispered.

When he focused back on the world around him he knew only one thing. Urn or hat or nothing at all. He needed the necklace!

"What do you want, Rumplestiltskin?" Ingrid asked, still clutching that urn tight against her. Urn or hat or nothing at all he needed the necklace, but the urn and hat would be nice too.

"Just an old trinket your frozen niece stole from me...a hat," he declared fingering the necklace. Could he slip it into his pocket unnoticed? She seemed rather attached to the urn at the moment, would she notice if this went missing? Would she care if she didn't realize what she had? He could do another bit of magic if necessary, switch it out with an identical one, but that would require magic, and she might sense that.

"I haven't seen it," the Snow Queen whispered low.

He laughed. Her heart had skipped a beat when he'd mentioned it and when she answered. Lies. "Oh, lying is so un-queenly, Ingrid," he commented. He wasn't in the mood for lies and games at the moment. He wanted that hat. She knew where it was. So…it seemed a deal was in order. If he couldn't retrieve his property, then he'd take back another! He turned his back on her and used his magic to do two things at once. He made a copy Anna's necklace and pocketed the original, then seized the urn Ingrid thought she had a hold of, and sent it back to his castle, where he put it away in the room with no doors. He couldn't risk it getting open around him…and Ingrid couldn't risk losing it.

"Where is she?!" she roared, not noticing the other little bit of magic he'd done. "Give her back..."

"Careful, dearie," he warned, finally turning back to face her, the fraudulent necklace in hand. "You're not the only one who knows how to hide something of value. We wouldn't want it lost forever, now would we? Though I'm curious why you took memories from that poor girl. I mean, you would have thought being trapped inside a bread bin was punishment enough."

Her heart was racing again, not from rage now, but rather from desperation. He could smell it on her. He had her in a precarious position, the poor Would-Be Queen. She wanted her niece back. He knew where she was. Which meant that she would do and say anything just to get her.

"She learned more than she was meant to," she admitted. "I wanted us to have a fresh start."

"Don't we all, dearie? Don't we all?" Little did she know that the key to their fresh start was back in his castle safe and sound and still years away from being cast, which was why he didn't have time to be here. He wanted that hat. But not more than anything. Baelfire was his true goal. If the hat should present itself again, he'd take it, but he had to keep his eyes on the goal! And leave the door open for what might be. "You know, uh...I'm gonna make you a deal..." he explained, cutting right to the chase after glancing at Anna. He wasn't interested in anything more than he needed to be. "An urn for a hat, as simple as that. And just to make it easy for you, when you 'find' the object of my desire, just say my name three times, and I shall come to you. See you soon!" he laughed, escaping with the necklace safe in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, look at that. You made it to the last chapter in the Frozen Section and it was a doozy let me tell you. This whole section...putting aside how I felt about the season, from a writer's standpoint this storyline was just as perfect to write as it was difficult. I said in an earlier chapter that having Rumple find the Curse and become obsessed with getting ahold of it here fit perfectly, part of that is because it keeps him from following this storyline too closely. It forces him to sort out his priorities and then focus on the Curse instead of what is happening in Arendelle. That's good because it seemed obvious to me that while he seemed to have a sort of general knowledge as to what was going on in Storybrooke during 4A, he really didn't know as much as he normally did. When you break the Arendelle 4A storyline down you find that soon after Anna arrives in the Enchanted Forest the episode storylines happen pretty close to one another and have been running consistently with the Dark Curse storyline. So, if you've been paying close attention in these last few chapters you'll note what is happening in Arendelle briefly before Rumple moves on to what is important. Just before Anna arrives to see Rumple Kristoff and Elsa get the urn and Ingrid is released and Elsa brings her home with them. Rumple noted that several chapters back but didn't think much of it because he was too busy with Anna and David. Immediately after he returns Anna with the hat, Anna meets Ingrid, immediately distrusts her and leaves to go talk to the Rock Trolls. This is where Anna meets Belle. But he doesn't see any of that because he's working on getting Jefferson to go find Cruella (that allows it to be a mystery to him until Belle tells him in season 4 [see MT&U for details]. Anna is captured by Ingrid and Ingrid begins to work her magic which includes going to the Apprentice's house. A few chapters back Rumple did see Ingrid go to the house but he didn't watch it carefully because he panicked and he immediately went to see the women to get his Curse and so now here we are. The two paths meet and cross once again leaving Rumple ignorant on some key things, but also in possession of some very important tools. I mean, really, when you think about it, he doesn't have the hat, but he did get the urn, necklace, and Curse out of it so, who really won here?
> 
> Thank you dearly for your reviews on the last chapter RolfB. I'm so sorry if this section has been a bore or complicated. The above paragraph quite honestly feels like the last chapter to the murder mysteries where everything is laid out and suddenly revealed. It wasn't a fun one to write, but we did it. We got through it. And your reward...that's the next section! Peace and Happy Reading!


	98. Keeping Busy

He'd gotten away with it. That was his conclusion thus far, at least. The Dark Curse had been in his possession for just over two years now and yet…nothing. No trouble from the Apprentice, who still lived in the same house he'd always lived in. No visits from the dastardly Blue Fairy, who he was certain would find him the instant she realized the Curse was gone. And no unfortunate encounters with the three women that he had used to help him get it. They'd lived, sadly. He'd felt certain that they would be destroyed by that Chernabog, or that at least one of them would be, but he'd later discovered all had miraculously survived. In fact, all were still in the Enchanted Forest, a fact which shocked him to no end. Why Cruella hadn't tried harder to find her way home was a mystery to him, but he didn't really care. Ever since that day, he'd had other things to worry about. And worry he did.

Sometimes he found himself thinking that it might have been better before he had the Curse in his possession. Over the last two years, he'd come to the conclusion that it had been just as protected on Bald Mountain as it was in his tower. He might not have had the chance to examine it then, but now that he had it he felt antsy. He was always riddled with anxiety and stress and especially desire. He wanted to use it. From the first moment he'd held it, some part of him had wanted to take it to Regina and get her to cast it! For half a second he thought that he might be able to. When he'd met her that night in his castle it was clear she was angry, quite obviously so with Snow White. She'd had a desire that night to see the Princess dead, but he'd had to remind himself that was one of the reasons it wouldn't work. He didn't want her to have Snow White die, she needed to want Snow White to suffer. Long ago she had wanted her to suffer, but he needed more than "want". Regina had to need to make her suffer. It had to be a potent need, undeniable, so much more than what it was now. It had to be overwhelming. Overwhelming enough to sentence an entire realm to the same fate Snow had. Overwhelming enough to kill her father.

He was right, just like he'd always assumed. The Curse did require a heart. And for this powerful a curse it would extract a great price. It would take the heart of the person most beloved by the caster. That was a good thing for him. It meant that no matter how tempted he was to cast it, he couldn't, as the person he loved most was out of reach. But it was bad news for Regina's father. One day, when that hate of hers continued to grow until it was all-consuming, his death would seem like a small sacrifice, naught but a step on the path to getting everything she ever wanted. If he tried to convince her to do it now, it would backfire. She'd be so insulted and upset by just the situation that she'd probably never speak to him.

The time wasn't right. And he knew it because the Seer took great pleasure in reminding him over and over again that the timing wasn't right yet. He could, if he wanted to, find someone to cast it now, but what good would it do if there was no Savior? No one to break his Curse? He'd now examined the Curse top to bottom. He knew how strong it was and what it did was no longer theory or speculation. It was designed to take him, all of those the caster chose, to another land, one without magic. It would erase memories, torment the heroes of this land, render everyone magic and happy ending free for as long as it endured. Time would stop. They would cease to age. The outside world would be aware of their existence but only just, only those that needed to know about them. All others would feel a compulsion not to come near the borders of whatever the caster created. They would be part of that world and isolated from it at the same time. That was why he needed to be able to break that Curse. Things could go on there forever without someone to help them out of that mess. He needed the child of Snow White and Prince James, the Swan, the Savior. But for now, she wasn't even a twinkle in her parent's eyes. Not yet. And from the looks of things between Regina and Snow, and the number of blonde, brunette, and red-headed women the False Prince entertained in his room each night, the girl wasn't to be born for years yet. Years…but not decades. Snow White was of age to deliver a child. Women could only bear children for so long without magical assistance. It wouldn't be long before those years were gone. Sometime in the next ten years, this was bound to happen!

But that didn't take away the temptation. The nights were the hardest part. When he was lonely, when spinning was no longer sufficient, when he wondered where Bae was and the sort of man he had become...it made the waiting damn near intolerable.

So he distracted himself. In these last two years, he'd come up with new ways to keep himself busy and distracted, anything to keep from counting the days and breaking down and finding someone else to cast the Curse. Oh, he did what he needed to do. He continued to see Regina whenever he could. After a time of letting her work on her own, with the Curse imminent, he'd been slipping back into her life, pressing himself closer to be sure that she was prepared magically and mentally for what was coming. She hated it and had begun to rebel against him, trying to outsmart and trick him in an effort to prove she was the better sorcereress. She didn't understand that wasn't possible, but he let her have her fun. It was no harm to him.

And in the meantime, there were always deals to be made. Deals kept him busy. Useless as they were. At least they were entertaining.

There was a girl who wanted to marry the prince that was in love with her sister. He arranged for it to happen, but also watched as the marriage fell apart. He couldn't make someone fall in love, and despite the wedding, the prince went on loving the sister and not her.

There was the farmer who wanted a cursed apple tree, one which would grow poisoned apples so that he might be able to cause his neighbor to die and therefore acquire their land. He found the rare seed to create such a fruit but not being one of magical blood and the tree being made of strong magic that needed special tending, most of the fruit had died before maturing. The few apples that survived were sold, but they didn't make the farmer enough to save his own property. In the end, they lost their farm to the neighbors they'd hoped to poison, and somewhere out there in the world there were five healthy poisoned apples just waiting to be bit into.

There was King Midas, a ruler in a Kingdom neighboring Regina's, his Kingdom had been going poor when suddenly he'd been struck by a terrible curse, or so he thought. King Midas was, in fact, a descendant of the King who owned the castle of gold that he'd visited just after he'd become the Dark One. The previous Dark Ones had always told him that they had never taken away that king's ability to turn items to gold, merely hidden it away somewhere in his bloodline, where it would one day rear its ugly head. The head had finally reared. And in exchange for some very useful information, he crafted a glove for the offending limb so that his dear daughter Princess Abigail might not suffer the same fate as his ancestor's daughter. As for the information he'd learned...it was all about the daughter.

Abigail was a key player, or at least she was going to be. The second that he met the King, the Seer began to whisper in his head about Abigail and the connection she shared, or one day would with Prince Charming. It was all very convoluted and difficult to sort through. The Seer showed him vision after vision of an unhappy Prince Charming by the side of an equally unhappy Princess Abigail. They were engaged. It would be the catalyst for Prince Charming to seek out Snow White. The only problem was that at the moment George's Kingdom had no connection at all that he could see with Midas's. There was no reason for two perfectly happy royals to unhappily lash themselves together. The Seer's appearance made one thing clear about it: he'd have to do something. So he was working on it. He had an idea that he was prepared to put in place whenever Regina tired of chasing her step-daughter around her Kingdom. But until that day, it was a moot point.

But his favorite of all the deals he made, by far, was the fun brought on by a pompous King, who, of all things, demanded clothes. With all his riches, the King claimed that he'd never found clothes that were good enough for him, or so the King had thought anyway.

"I deserve the best! When I look in the mirror, I want to see my riches, see the greatest clothes anyone could ever wear! I want there to be no doubt exactly who I am."

Pompous Ass. He'd smiled as he'd made his deal and cast his spell. He was going to enjoy watching it. With one spell, he tricked the King, altered his eyesight. Now when he looked at himself or in the mirror, what he saw was a lie. His eyes and the mirror showed him the most beautiful garments he'd ever seen in his life. But all he was actually wearing was nothing. He walked about naked as a lark, striding as the people laughed at him. It would take him a while to figure out what had happened, if he managed to figure it out. The spell would wear off in a few days time, long enough for him to learn his lesson. And he'd gotten a wonderful new wardrobe out of the deal as his price had been all the King's former clothes. New pants, new boots, beautiful silk shirts, and several vests as well as a couple of new jackets made out of alligator skin. The collars were high, the clothing added layer after layer to him, but he liked it. When he left the castle, he felt protected and guarded, as if he was wearing a costume. He felt safe. And once he was finally home, he was free to shed his jacket, his new skin, and make himself as comfortable as possible. Which would never be true comfort, at least not until his Curse was cast.

He kept busy, taking on each new task given to him, damn near rejoicing every time he felt a summons or a heard a call.

Or every time a bird flew into his little tower...

He jumped suddenly when this one appeared. He'd been so caught up in watching Snow White hide from some of Regina's guards that he hadn't anticipated the arrival of the little dove that flew in his window, swooped down over his head before landing on the table in front of him. It cooed and held out its leg so that he could see the scroll, which had been carefully fixed to it. Another request, he hoped delicately freeing the bird of its burden so that it could soar once more out the window and back to wherever home was. And where was home? He carefully unfurled the scroll to its full size, used a bit of magic to restore it to what it was before it's long journey had begun, and checked first and foremost the signature at the bottom, just to see where it came from. He liked to have the upper hand in all things, even if the individual wasn't in the room yet and it was just in letter form.

A wide smile spread over his face as he saw the signature and tiny stamp at the bottom.

"Well, well, well…it is about time Your Majesty," he muttered as he sauntered over to his fireplace while reading:

_Dark One, Many years ago, you helped to rid my daughter of her ailments, though I disagreed with your methods of magic and the price extracted I cannot deny its effectiveness. Before you departed, you offered us help in conquering our problem with the ogres and I informed you that the help was not necessary. However, recently, things have changed. Our Kingdom is on the brink of collapse and devastation if something is not done to control the creatures and push them back. In exchange for your help, we are willing to offer you gold and jewels. My council meets in one week to prepare a strategy. I would be most gracious if we could arrange a meeting prior to which we might discuss options. Faithfully, your servant, King Maurice._

He let out a giggle at the conclusion and propped his feet up on the footrest. His heart jumped and whirled with entertainment. The letter had been perfect in every way.

The haughtiness of the King shone through in his wording. If he closed his eyes, he could practically see quills snapping in the King's hands as he struggled to write phrases that were neither truth nor lie, cordial but controlling. How had he known? He'd never seen the day that the King took him up on his offer, not from the Seer at least, but in a way, he had always known that it was bound to come up. After all, the girl was important in some way, that much the Seer had told him. The King's involvement was questionable, but there was never a doubt in his mind that one day Belle would come back into play. It seemed that day had finally arrived. He wasn't the least bit surprised that it was through her father. But, all things considering, from their previous encounter and the letter he held in his hand now, he could see that the King's patience for him was waning. He could chase the ogres away at a price that was reasonable, keep the King happy, keep the daughter a bit closer to him so that when he learned what her role was in the future he was a friendly face. But there were so many other ways to handle this situation than kowtowing to the King.

With a snap of his fingers, the fireplace beside him burst to life. He crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it in, where it erupted in flames.

He knew what he was going to do. The King wasn't the important one in this equation; the Princess was. And he'd seen enough of her in his cauldron and crystal ball since that day he'd cured her to know her type of character, or at least suspect. Perhaps it was time to test that theory by cutting out the middle man.

He let out a gasp as the Seer suddenly spoke. From deep with the recesses of his mind, he heard her whisper, _"This is the beginning…"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the sixth section of The Dark Curse, a section I have lovingly titled The Beauty and the Beast Section. I know that's going to get a lot of people excited all on it's own, but let's try this on for size: The Beauty and the Beast Section is the longest section in this fiction. Now, to be clear, it may be the Beauty and the Beast section, but the length of this section is only in part because of Belle. Yes, I had to fit everything that happens in Known and Unknown into this section which was a chore all on its own, but the truth is that this is the part in the timeline where the rubber really starts to hit the road. Aside from all the Rumbelle, this section contains major flashbacks and events from every season, including season 7, as well as sets up certain things for every Moments fiction from Known and Unknown onward. This section sees a visit from Emma and Hook, Rumple's trip to Camelot for the Gauntlet, Jekyll and Hyde, the precursor to Rumple and the prophecy in season 7, and all that is in addition to Belle's chapters. The Dark Curse in the last section might be the most important, but this section is probably the most detail-oriented. Everything had to be just right for it. And the result...it's long. It's going to be a long ride, but I'm in if you're in!
> 
> Thank you RolfB your comments. As you can see we begin the Beauty and the Beast Section with sort of an introductory chapter. It was important to me that we do that because if you read Moments Lost you know there is some time between Belle in Arendelle (which we now know occurred at the same time Rumple was fetching the Curse) and when she finally convinces her father to write to Rumple. So I wanted to include a bit of waiting in this chapter. And then, of course, up next we have...Peace and Happy Reading.


	99. The Daughter of the King

Once, he had brought a King's daughter back from the brink of a psychotic break. The cost to the King was high. In exchange for helping his daughter, he had removed all the memories the King had of his wife; all the love for her, every emotion he'd ever felt for her, gone just like that. He'd thought that observing those memories might help him to understand true love, but it was clear after watching that it wasn't True Love. Just love. One that was deep and true in a way, but not True Love. Still, he kept the memories for himself, thinking at least it would give him something to compare True Love to. After he'd healed the girl, he'd offered the King an opportunity, one that he knew he needed, he would help him end his Ogre War as he had long ago. The King had scoffed, he'd told him quite adamantly that he never wanted to see him at his door ever again.

Well, seeing as how he was here to do what he felt certain the King didn't want, he thought that he might as well give him something he wanted.

He'd held off his arrival at the Palace until the last minute. He liked to maintain control of every situation he involved himself in, and there was nothing about this he wasn't in control of. The King wanted him before the council meeting; he'd get him _during_ , when he could be certain that all the players were in the room at the same time. The King, his council, his future son-in-law, but most important of all, his daughter. He'd been watching her ever since he'd cured her, he'd been trying to place why she'd been so familiar, why the Seer told him she was important. He hadn't been successful at determining any of that yet. And so, he'd decided long before he even set foot in the place that if he really and truly wanted to figure it out, he had to keep her close. The King already detested him, he couldn't risk her father pulling her away from him, and so he was here not so much to help the King and his people as to help himself. He was going to cut the King out of their deal, remove the middleman. He was going to take a risk, and find out just how well he knew the young woman, just how much his watching had paid off. With any luck, he'd take her back to his castle where her father would mourn her, but her Kingdom would be safe, and he could figure out why she was important to his future. And of course, he'd honor the King's request at the same time; he wouldn't see him at his door.

He arrived just on the heels of a young soldier, carrying news from the battlefield. He didn't need to see the news to know it was bad; the boy's face was solemn enough that it spoke for itself. And besides, they were Ogres, what else could any news be but bad. From inside the room, he'd heard the King roar something at the top of his lungs before all fell silent again. He wasn't even in the room and he could feel the weight of whatever had just happened. It seemed like the time to intervene.

He pounded against the door and listened carefully inside. Things went from quiet to quieter for a heartbeat before he heard a commotion, a high shrill voice cried out "It's him, it has to be!" before he heard the King mumble something followed by "open it!"

And so he fulfilled his promise. When the doors to the chamber opened, he wasn't standing there. He'd used his magic to get inside the room. Walls were nothing to him, brick and mortar stood no chance against magic, and he wanted the King to know that as he dropped himself into the King's chair and summoned a building from the map at the center of the room into his hand. No one saw him. Their backs were all turned to him as they watched a soldier walk to the door he'd just knocked on, yanked, and opened it to nothing.

The tension that had been running through the room all this time suddenly dropped as all were left staring in confusion at nothing, wondering if they were finally going crazy, wondering if they'd actually heard something, wondering what had happened and where he was. Showtime.

"Well, that was a bit of a letdown," he announced. His voice echoed off the walls of the chamber. More than one person jumped at the sound of his voice as they all spun around to find him. All eyes were on him, and more than a few swords were drawn, one by the man that the Princess was engaged to. But that was the way he liked it, that was the way he'd wanted this to happen. He wanted witnesses.

He made an effort, tried as hard as he could, to keep his eyes firmly on the King and not the girl, but it was impossible to notice her. In a sea of brown, gray, black, even the King's dark red cloak, she was difficult not to spot in her bright yellow dress. They were all covered head to toe, but her gown hung off her shoulders revealing soft skin that had never seen battle. If he was honest, they were the most beautiful shoulders he'd ever seen on a woman who'd ever worn a dress like that. Much more so than even Cora's. Beautiful shoulders, strong clavical, graceful neck, and still that sensation that there was something familiar about her face, about the brown hair that fell down her back... Something he couldn't place. Who was she to him?!

Her hands were wrapped tight around her father's arm as she observed him with the others. They were all stoic, their eyes fearful and wary of him. But not her. She seemed curious, like a child peeking out from behind its mother's legs, only she was trying to see what her father was trying to keep from her. Part of him wondered if there would be recognition, but it appeared the potion he'd given her in their last encounter was sufficient. The only one sensing any kind of familiarity was him.

"You sent me a message," he explained to the room. "Something about 'Help! Help! We're dying! Can you save us?'" he mocked in a high and cowardly voice. The King hadn't written those exact sentences, but they both knew that was the long and short of it. He deserved to feel some shame over his behavior in front of his inferiors. He rose then and eyed the rest of the room, took in the future Prince as well as the King and his soldiers, carefully making sure to avoid looking at the girl no matter how difficult it was. The captive audience helped. And there was no way they weren't going to be captive when he approached their King as he was now.

Maurice behaved as he should, looking unhappy and upset all at once, the fiancé, on the other hand, refused to back down. It wasn't surprising given what he knew of Le Gume Junior, but there was something to be said for intimidation, especially when he was wielding a sword in his face.

"Now the answer is…" he moved to strike the sword, slapped it away with his hand so that the boy twitched just a bit. "Yes, I can." He tossed the little toy castle he'd taken to playing with to one of the soldiers whose reflexes were quick enough to overpower his fear and he caught it. "Yes, I can protect your little town…for a price," he added sinisterly.

"We sent you a promise of gold!" the King growled, taking a small step forward. He smiled at the reaction. He had the power here, not the King. What he said was going to be as it was. His attempt at controlling the situation by telling him the price had been cute, but not effective.

"Ah! Now you see, um, I uh… _make_ gold," he pointed out to the King and probably to the rest of the room as there was an unsettled shifting of feet that followed his statement. He resisted the urge to laugh at them. Had no one thought of that fact before the letter had been sent?! "What I want is something a bit more special. My price…is her."

He pointed in the direction of the princess and finally let his eyes land on her. The reaction was immediate. Her back straightened in surprise as her eyes widened into shock and maybe even horror. But she didn't fight. She didn't scream or yell or give him an earful or even try to run away as so many noble women might have. She only looked as if she were thinking, as if her mind was working through something that no one else was yet. That much, at least, was evident in the reactions of everyone around her.

Every eye had just turned from him to her in a heartbeat. Some of the soldiers stepped closer to her. Her fiancé was the only one who stepped in front, as if he was going to be able to protect the girl from the likes of him.

Her father shook his head. "No," he stated, almost breathlessly.

"The young lady is engaged…to me!" Gaston, her fiancé proclaimed.

He laughed at such a comment. Like the promise of matrimony was enough to chase him off her tail! Not in the least. He didn't care what her marital status was, all that mattered to him was that he kept her close. At least until the Seer told him why she was so important.

"I wasn't asking if she was engaged!" he corrected as he began to move about in a slow stroll about the room. "I'm not looking for…love! I'm looking for a caretaker! For my rather large estate!" he corrected with a beaming grin.

The Princess was to become a glorified maid. What did they think of that?! Not much from the looks of it. Though he only caught glimpses of the girl's face from between her fiancé and father's arms, he could see that she almost looked relieved at the pronouncement, but everyone else looked offended. Both reactions were normal he supposed. While they were all considering what a lowly state she would enter, he'd watched her enough to know that she was just glad that she wouldn't have to share her bed with a monster like Gaston. Relief was what he would have expected from the one who was at the center of the deal. But would she take it? He knew they wouldn't. But if his observations of her were accurate, he suspected that she just might. With the right push of course.

"It's her or no deal," he finally concluded.

"Get out," her father ordered quickly. "Leave!"

At the King's command, a path cleared for him, partly only because Gaston had given the girl a shove out of the way that made him want to hit him. He may have been a monster, but even he knew how to treat a lady. But he ignored the urge, gave a simple bow of his head before muttering "as you wish" and began a slow purposeful stroll toward the door. Magic could've taken him home in only a second, but he wanted to linger he wanted to give the girl an opportunity to watch him walk away and take all of her hopes for her Kingdom with him. He wanted to give her time to allow her to-

"No! Wait!"

To do that.

Her voice cried out to him from across the room and bid him to turn. The girl wasn't a girl, that much was obvious in the way that she removed herself from the protective grasp of her father and fiancé and then moved toward him. It wasn't the walk of a girl, or even a woman, it was the walk of a Queen. Not a single step showed hesitation, just confidence as she stepped toe to toe with him and stood defiant in front of those that she loved. There was a nervousness in her eyes and in her jaw as well as in the flutter of her heart, but her head was held high with confidence and courage. When everyone else in the room shrank back, hoping he wouldn't step close to them she moved forward, volunteered to put herself in the line of fire. It was a rare thing that could take his breath away. But she did.

"I will go with him."

He let out a joyous laugh at the deal finally struck, the plan that was in the making as they looked one another in the eye, but the rest of the room didn't celebrate with them.

"I forbid it," her fiancé shouted.

"No!" her father cried out.

He saw just a brief flash of fire in her eyes before she turned from him to look over her shoulder at the pair of them. "No one decides my fate but me!" she shouted.

Immediately the room grew silent. Seven words. Seven words was all it had taken for her to bring them to their knees. Seven hot and angry words that forced the room to back away from her and asserted the dominance that she had. Seven words to surprise them all. Seven words was all it took for him to feel a warm sensation of pride and victory in his chest. Not because his deal was coming to pass, but because after all that watching he'd always known that she had this in her. She wasn't like other noble girls. She admirable, a rare sight. Strong, courageous, and brave…he felt nearly giddy at the thought that she'd go with him, that he would get to dissect her, to learn why she was important, to study her further.

"I shall go," she concluded, turning back to him.

"It's forever, dearie," he warned, wondering if he'd see fear overtake her. It didn't.

"My family, my friends, they will all live?" she questioned clearly.

Intelligent girl, she'd left him not a single hole for a loophole, and yet he didn't feel upset. He'd meant to assume control the moment he stepped in the room and now here she was taking it back. For this kind of entertainment and promise, he could easily work that into their agreement.

"You have my word," he promised, giving her a small bow.

"Then you have mine," she confirmed with only the smallest bit of sadness in her voice. "I will go, with you, forever."

"Deal!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the first appearance of Belle in this fiction, but certainly the first time Belle is Belle. You've made it to the Rumbelle scenes everyone! Which means, if you really, really want to, you can begin to now read Moments Known and Unknown in conjunction with this fiction. That being said, as this chapter perfectly demonstrates right out of the gate, the chapters are not divided the same way between the two fictions. I thought about doing that, really I did, but on the very first attempt at that (with this chapter, naturally) I realized doing it that carefully was never going to work. So, what is happening in this section is also happening in the first chapter of MK&U. However, in MK&U, this scene continues on to the point where Belle and Rumple walk out together. In this fiction, the second bit of this conversation is going to come in the next chapter. As I continued on writing this section, doing little things like that actually became something I enjoyed because even though Belle and Rumple come to be a unit later on I'm also a firm believer that a good and healthy relationship should emphasize two individual people. So their stories overlapping but not being 100% perfectly in line came to represent that to me. They are still two different people, who will chronicle memories differently and experience moments uniquely (see what I did there). So, if you wish to read MK&U in parallel to this, begin now and you'll just have to pay close attention with where to stop and start (I can help with a little of that privately if you need me to), because I won't be making notations of it much beyond this A/N.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm so happy to hear you are excited to finally reach this point in the story! If this chapter seems a bit slow, that was done purposefully. I really wanted time to feel like it stopped in this moment. It's not like this all the time. I do hope you'll enjoy the rest of Beauty and the Beast section and looking at Belle through Rumple's eyes. If you are like me, it's a bit strange at first, but you get used to it. And it is sort of fun to read both at the same time. After living in Belle's head for so long, to flip the coin and live inside Rumple's head. Knowing what the other is thinking as you read is certainly an experience! Peace and Happy Reading!


	100. Too Little, Too Late

"Belle! You cannot do this! You can't go with this…beast!"

He knew the King meant for his words to hurt him, but there was nothing that he could call him that he hadn't already heard or called himself a hundred times over by now. And the way he felt, the wonderful feeling that came from a deal well made, there was no chance he was going to be hurt by the King's words, especially given the situation. Now they were going to raise an objection? He could think of so many ways in which they could have fought harder against this deal. As far as he was concerned, the King wanted this to happen. He was probably relieved that he didn't have to do the unthinkable in front of everyone.

As he placed a hand over his chest and feigned offense at the proclamation, she turned back to the pair of them.

"Father, Gaston…it's been decided," she stated confidently.

Indeed, it had. The moment she'd said the words he felt chords of magic bind to him, preparing him to hold to the promise he'd given. This wasn't the King's deal. He'd wanted him to think that, but it had never been his to make. It was always hers. She'd fallen right into his trap.

"You know…" he muttered, coming up to stand just over her shoulder and look into their faces, "she's right. The deal…is struck." He made sure to say it with finality, with weight so that the decision that had been made here would reverberate through the walls of the hall and in every heart. She was making a great sacrifice for them. They should feel it.

"Oh! Congratulations on your little war!" he called out, one final taunt before he spun the princess around, away from her family and friends, then led her out the door with a hand against her back, lest she think twice about their agreement. He'd wanted her to make it, but was also well versed in the topic of regret and what it could make people do. He wanted her to know that he was beside her, just in case she got any ideas about running.

In truth, he would have thought that removing her would have been more difficult. She was the Princess of this nation, the only child and heir of it's monarch, he expected a little more fight, for servants and guards to wail perhaps, for her fiancé to actually attempt to attack him, maybe even for her father to grow a set of balls and run out after them and try and change his mind. He expected that sooner or later he would have had to remove her from her home using magic.

But nothing happened.

They encountered no servants. There was no gnashing of teeth or clashing of swords. There wasn't even a cry good-bye from her beloved father. They nearly made it out of the castle before he realized that nothing was going to happen, and he needed some way to get her back to his palace. The magic that he intended to use for a quick getaway wasn't what he wanted for an easy escape. She was a strong girl, a smart one too, she'd been groomed to be a Queen and that gave her certain perceptions of herself that he'd wanted to wipe away for what faced her. In the case of a quick getaway tearing her from her family quickly and dramatically like that would have been ideal, but now, having walked all this way to nowhere, it seemed silly. He wanted to leave her with an impression of his power, of his magic. He wanted her to know that though she had once been considered powerful, she no longer was. He was the dominant figure now. She was the inferior.

Fortunately, magic made everything easier. Quickly enough he devised a plan, and with his magic, he was able to put it into place so that by the time the doors to the palace opened, there was a simple carriage drawn by horses waiting for them. Obviously, they weren't going to take the carriage back home, not naturally, of course. They were at least a two-week journey from the Dark Castle, and while he was looking forward to figuring out what his new prize meant for the future, he wasn't interested in spending that much time with her. No, he had a spell in mind, a powerful one, too. The spell he was going to cast was a bit odd, created by someone in Wonderland. It could be used to make the distance between two points shorter. Somehow... He didn't know a single person that actually understood the spell, including himself. It wasn't a time travel spell, and yet it did work by stitching time together. It wasn't a traveling spell, but it also worked by making things shorter. What it was didn't really matter to him, only that as he used it, she would feel it. She would know magic was at work and that he was creating it. That was sorely needed as he held his hand out to help her into their carriage, and she turned her nose up at the offering, choosing to climb in on her own.

Once they were both situated, sitting opposite one another in the carriage, he held up his hand and flung it as someone might flick their wrist to use a whip. The horses whinnied, and then they were off! The carriage surged forward, inside, there was quiet.

She didn't cry. Why didn't she cry? Women, Princesses, in fact, were known for blubbering about constantly about the smallest of things. They hadn't gone by her room before they left. Wasn't she upset about her things? Her pretty gowns? Her books? Her vanity? Her father? Everything she was leaving behind?! He would be. As they moved, looked over his shoulder and out the window, back at her precious palace, but she said not a word. Once the palace was far too distant for her to watch she turned her gaze on him. But didn't. It was the strangest thing, but for the longest time she looked at him, but he had the suspicion that she wasn't really seeing him. Then, finally, it happened. Though her eyes never moved he was suddenly very aware that she was looking at him. Actually looking. Though others frequently cast their eyes down or stared at his nose or forehead to avoid his eyes, she looked right into him with those same fiery, determined eyes he'd seen before. It sent a jolt that rocked him from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, and he was sure that jolt had nothing to do with the quality of the road they were on or the pothole they'd just hit.

He didn't take his eyes off her. Though he was desperate to start the spell, he'd never backed down from a challenge, and he was certain this was what their staring contest was. Mr. Oak had once told him that when he met a dog, he was to stare it in the eyes until one of them blinked. That was the first sign of power. He wasn't going to be the one that blinked first, even if he had just used magic to keep his eyes open.

They sat there like that for a few more minutes, long past the time that he would have thought she'd surrender out of humility and politeness that all girls like her were taught. It was fine with him. He was trying to induce something. He was trying to either force the Seer to talk to him about her, or trigger a vision, something, anything that might explain the sense of deja vu he found itching through his skin every time he saw her. He had to place her. He had to figure out what she knew, he had to identify her! But nothing happened. No vision, no voice, no sudden epiphany. Then, finally, after some time, she blinked.

"Where are we going?" she asked, along with her surrender.

Such a simple question. Usually people saved their conversations with him for important questions. Certainly nothing as silly as what she'd just asked. Wasn't the answer obvious?

"Home!" he announced. He'd said it odd, even he could hear, with an accent like he hadn't heard in years, but he covered it up quickly enough with a laugh. That should have done it, should have gotten some kind of reaction out of her, but he watched as she narrowed her gaze in his direction. He'd brought her so that he would have an epiphany, so why did he feel like she was the one putting pieces of a puzzle together. It was unnerving. Suddenly he was regretting not just simply taking her away with the force of magic. They could have been separated by now. Perhaps it was time to stop staring and work his magic.

"And how far is 'home' exactly?" she questioned further.

Yes, certainly time for some magic. "Oh, never fear, dearie," he stated using a sinister voice. "We shall arrive in…no time!" He blinked. He turned his head out the window and began to gather magic up and into himself. It would have been easier magic to do with the dagger in hand to channel it, but he could do it on his own. The colors outside their windows began to blur together. Then they blurred so that there were definite objects and shapes again. It was like when a child spun around so fast it seemed like they weren't spinning at all. He set the spell in motion and felt energy drain from him as he used it. They were a blur to the outside world as well. They would speed up and then slow down, speed up and then slow down. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of his seat to focus through it. He could have watched her, but it seemed like too much work to study her and keep the spell going. And it wasn't as if this was his only job. Once he got home and handled her, there would be ogres to kill; an easy task, but still one that required magic. He'd be tired tonight. He'd let her "adjust" to her new environment, then see how she handled herself when he returned. And speaking of returning.

There was a change in the air around him as he began to settle the spell, to lessen the distances and the speed at which they traveled now that they were back in the little village by his castle; now the mountain; now the path. He didn't need to open his eyes to know that he was home. He could feel it. Not only was the sun obviously going down, darkening the carriage, but there was a chill in the air that came from fall settling into the mountain. He could feel the carriage wheels shift ever so slightly from ice the higher up they went, and that was when he forced the spell to stop working and remembered her shoulders. He felt things like cold, he allowed himself to still perceive them though he didn't have to feel them if he didn't want to. Now that he was feeling the sensation through his gloves he remembered how bare her shoulders had been, how naked that dress she was wearing left her arms. He forced his eyes open when he heard something odd across the carriage and realized that she was rubbing her bare hands together for warmth. He watched her looking down at them, creating friction to warm herself even for just a moment. He silently dared her to ask him for a blanket, for gloves, a cloak, anything that might help her situation because asking for any of those things would speak volumes about her personality. But she didn't ask. Not even when she looked up and caught him staring at her again and he found himself asking the question of himself.

If she asked for something, would he give it to her? Did he want her to ask?

What did it matter if she didn't ask? What did it matter at all? They were home. With another swoop of magic, he ordered the gates ahead to open for them, and she turned in her seat to behold for the first time the Dark Castle, her new home. And behold she did. Once she turned to look, she didn't turn back, not to look at him or around her at the grounds. That was a stupid choice really. It was dark. The castle was barely visible to human eyes. It would be a dark gray against a black sky for the most part. Their recent autumn snowfall had dusted the grounds with white, but that still didn't leave much to see. Still, she chose to remain focused on what lay ahead. Not even when he ordered the horses to stop at the front steps to drop them off. Perhaps a useful bit of information?

This time, when he went to help her down she took his hand, but released it quickly as if realizing she hadn't really wanted to touch it. But she didn't look at him. Just kept looking straight ahead then up, up, up, as if she'd never seen anything like it before. Her reaction was overdone. Honestly, he knew that the castles in her Kingdom were not as grand as this one but for a Princess to have such a reaction at all would be an embarrassment for her family. Perhaps that was why her father had let her go so easy. Maybe he wasn't as attached as he claimed.

Finally out of the carriage, he used his magic to get rid of it and led her inside. She gasped just before the doors closed, and he smirked as he urged her forward. She was a slow one.

"Keep up, dearie!" he ordered as he escorted her into the Grand Hall. The fire roared to life just as it always did, but he didn't slow down to allow her to warm. Considering what was about to happen, doing so would only seem cruel. Behind him the sound of her footsteps were uneven. For a few steps she'd take long strides, then he could hear them slow again before she stumbled and sped up. Looking about, was she? Still? A classic dreamer, perhaps. Odd for a Princess but not completely unheard of. What would be entirely unheard of was if she took what was about to happen to her well.

"Where-where are you taking me?" he heard her mumble behind him.

"Let's call it…your room," he answered, sending a glance over his shoulder at her.

It was a mean trick to play, he knew that, but she was technically his prisoner and he had errands to run and ogres to kill. He wasn't about to just let her lounge about his home and potentially run away, not when he had work for her to do. It had been decades since he'd had a caretaker or a maid in here. Although he preferred the solitude there was plenty that would keep her busy. Later.

For now, their tour ended down in the depths of the castle, an area he rarely came to except when he had a prisoner. Like now! He used his magic to swing open the door to one of the roomier, more friendly cells and waited for her reaction as they came to a stop. She peered inside, and he saw upset on her face the moment her mind began to put it all together.

"My room?!" she cried in an accusatory voice. Now there was the emotion he had been expecting to see all this time! He knew she had it in her to be ordinary in at least one way, it had just taken some time to figure out how.

"Well, it sounds a lot nicer than 'dungeon'," he responded with a smile. Before she could run or scream or cry, he gave her the smallest of shoves to get her over the threshold, then grabbed the door and slammed it shut, ensuring that it was closed and locked before he turned to leave. He could hear her whine and scream and pound at the door as he made his way back upstairs and to his tower to fetch what he'd need from his workshop before returning to her Kingdom. He would have thought the little brat would have been happy. After all, he had ogres to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story, I didn't really intend for this chapter to be as long as it was, but the more I wrote it the more I realized that taking the time to dissect this strange first moment of alone time from Rumple's POV was important to the fiction. I got to do a lot of really fun things with this fiction, especially with the Belle chapters because in some ways they were already written, the POV just needed to be shifted. A lot of times I went to MK&U, just copied the chapters and then slowly rewrote it using the Moments version. But, I also had one other reference to work with from Moments Seen and Unseen. Chapter 20, Reflections of a Past Life, in MS&U is one of my favorite Moments chapters because it is one of the few times that Moments readers got a glimpse into Rumple's head. That chapter and all that Rumple and Belle talk about in it sort of became a guide for a few of these chapters, but for these early chapters there was one line in particular that was very helpful. In Reflections of a Past Life Belle asks him when he fell in love with her. His response? "I think I always did." That's meant to sort of be a discovery for him in that moment, like he didn't realize how long he'd loved her until he really stopped to think about it. So in these early chapters I enjoyed putting in little hints of that line. It's things that Rumbellers and a future Rumple will say "you're acting that way because you love her you dolt!" but leave the present Rumple confused and dismissive. It'll be that way until a very specific point when we hit a vocab/tone change. I'm interested to see if you'll spot it.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Keep some of those thoughts and questions coming! You might not be so far off on some of them. Sorry for the long drawn out chapter here, up next we've got an iconic scene before we get into the 2x19 part of this. Shall we see what's in store? Let's go! Peace and Happy Reading!


	101. Just a Cup

The ogres were dead. Mostly. Some he had forced back up and over the mountains to start their population over, others he'd left asleep with his special poppies that would kill them when they woke, but once again he had managed to single-handedly spare a Kingdom by bringing those creatures to their knees. The deal was complete. The friends and family as well as the Kingdom of his new acquisition were safe, and he had a new maid. And he intended to put her to use.

It had been some time since he had a maid. He hadn't had one really since Baelfire was around, and the ones who had requested the job before always proved to be untrustworthy. This would be different though. This wasn't a street-smart girl asking for a job and plotting all along to overthrow him or…what was it the first one had wanted? To be his Queen? He nearly gagged at that particular memory.

No. This girl was nothing like that one or any of the others. To begin with, she hadn't asked or expected this job before he'd arrived in that chamber. A pampered palace brat was all she was. He doubted she'd ever done a single chore in her life, let alone moved anything heavier than a book. She wasn't street-smart, if anything she was book smart, and he would enjoy watching her see that all her education had amounted to was a knowledge that was unsuitable for the life she was about to lead. She'd give it a go for a week, maybe two, then begin to complain. He'd lock her in the dungeon more and more. She'd last a few months, maybe. Then she'd probably get sick, and he'd hand her off to someone else to watch over far from her father where he could find her when he needed her. For whatever it was that he was going to need her for. Hopefully, by the time that came to pass, he'd have discerned what it was that the Seer was trying to tell him about her, what purpose she served.

She'd been a feisty little thing when he'd thrown her into that dungeon, and it hadn't been a terrible surprise to him that the woman who dared to speak with such authority over the men in her life when he'd taken her would be feisty, but he hadn't expected to break her so quickly. By the time he returned to his dungeon with the mind to put her to use, he expected her to still be banging away at the door and screaming at him. But when he arrived downstairs, the only sounds he heard were quiet sobs from behind the door. They knotted his gut. It was an unexpected, and unpleasant, reminder of exactly where they stood. None of the other girls he'd hired had ever cried. But none of the other girls he'd hired had ever been kept here as part of a deal for an eternity. As he listened each small cry reminded him that this was by no means a normal situation they found themselves in.

But that didn't mean it couldn't become normal.

The voices assaulted him with memory after memory, his own and some of theirs, that reminded him exactly why he hadn't had a maid all these years. People were cruel and wretched, and even the dullest among them were conniving and cunning. This maid hadn't come to him as ordinary maids did, but that didn't mean she couldn't be any less a threat. Now that she was here, he couldn't let down his guard as he had with the others, lest this end the same way. She was crying, probably because she missed her family and was cold and miserable, but also probably out of fear. A little fear would do her some good. He'd have to keep an eye on this one.

Without warning, he opened the door to her cell, and the girl came tumbling out onto the floor before him, a cloud of yellow falling backward over his feet. He stepped away, his first instinct to refuse any groveling that she might have wanted to do but then realized that she wasn't groveling at all. She'd merely been leaning against the door and fallen when he'd opened it. Altogether a stupid choice on her part. How wonderful for him that he'd hired a clutz.

As soon as she'd had her own epiphany of who was standing there and what was going on, she scrambled to her feet and wiped the tears away from her eyes, though he could still see the red in her cheeks and the swelling in her eyelids. Best not to dwell.

"Come! Come now, dearie, we don't have all day!" he hollered, turning on his heel and walking away from her so that she might follow. He didn't stop to check on her. He didn't slow down to make sure she was following or knew where she was going or how to get back. That was just going to be something that she had to teach herself. He didn't have time to hold her hand. His observations told him that she was a smart girl, perhaps she'd be able to use that to help her now. Her first test was going to be simple enough.

He led her into the kitchen, located just below the dungeons, and let her take a look around as he lit the fireplace. He wanted to provide her with a test that was passable, not something impossible. She jumped when he moved away from her to leave her there.

"I shall take my tea upstairs!" he laughed before he turned on his heel and left. There. A test. No Princess or King or Queen or even Prince knew how to make their own tea. He might be lucky enough to find a Prince that could start a fire, or a Princess that could pick the most elegant china pattern, or a royal couple who knew how to trade in tea and cakes and pies but learn to make it for themselves? Laughable. And yet, if she was as smart as he suspected, then she'd probably at least seen someone make tea for her at least once in her life. Would she be able to do it? Enter into an unfamiliar room in every way, find the things she'd need to make and serve tea, then make it upstairs to him on her own? He didn't know. And the anticipation was killing him.

When he arrived upstairs in the great room, he pulled a chair magically out of another room and moved it to the head of the table that he used to sit at when he and Baelfire had taken their meals here together. He sat and he waited. And he thought. It had been a long time since he'd had to share this castle with anyone, though "share" when in reference to the help was a bit much. When he was here on his own he very rarely ate. He didn't really need to, his body would live on without food whether he wanted it to or not and if he ever felt hunger, he was quick to suppress the temptation much the same way he did when it came to the old habit of sleep. But just because he could survive without food didn't mean that he had to. If he wanted the girl to stay out of his business and not cause trouble for him, then he supposed he'd have to keep her occupied. It would be three square meals a day for him while she was here, lots of cleaning which he never cared about and would probably take up most of her time, and then laundry. He hated the thought of her going into the room he'd claimed for his own, rifling through his things, seeing his private space. But then it wasn't as if he slept there night after night. And after all these years alone, technically, this entire castle was his private space. It was just laundry. She'd go in, she'd fetch it, and that was it. If he should catch her doing more, then he'd put a stop to it. Besides, he'd said "forever", but he hadn't really meant it, not about this place. He'd meant it more to keep her away from her father who he was certain would never let him anywhere near her again after this. But this job, here at his castle, this was temporary. As soon as he figured out why she was so important, he'd figure out some way to safely get rid of her that would keep the future intact and her away from her father. It was a good solid plan, so long as the Seer would cooperate.

By the door to the lower floors, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over. Well now, test passed! And promptly enough. He'd been sitting there eight, maybe ten minutes. Certainly more than enough time to actually make tea but for someone he suspected had never done it before…bravo!

Though for now, she lingered in the doorway, a tray in hand, looking around as if she were a mouse wondering if she could take the cheese before the trap sprang. Respect for privacy, in an ordinary maid that would never do, for his purposes, it delighted him.

"Come now, dearie," he called out to her in a whimsical tone meant to taunt and scare all at once. "I don't bite…often."

She jumped a bit, whatever it was she had on her tray rattled with her nerves, but eventually she appeared in that hideous gown of hers in his room with her head still held high. She'd learn.

"You will, of course, have a number of duties as my caretaker," mentioned as she came forward to set the tray on the table. He'd rather listen to himself talk than her nerves rattling his dishes. "You will serve me my meals, and you will clean the dark castle."

"I-I understand," she nodded.

"You will dust my collection and launder my clothing."

"Yes," she nodded again as she took a cup and poured the tea. Yes. Her only reaction was "yes"? She was a Princess, she wasn't going to scream or complain?

"You will fetch me fresh straw when I'm spinning at the wheel."

"Got it." Another nod. Another yes. The woman she'd looked in on these last few years was a rebel in many ways. Was she not going to have any reaction?

"Oh! And you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts."

There it was. He'd suggested the ridiculous thing just as she'd taken the cup in her hands and straightened…and there it went tumbling to the floor and spilling all over his carpet as she gasped and went even paler than dear Snow White. He smiled as she stared at him slack-jawed. He'd wanted a reaction, and he got one, it was terribly funny what he'd had to do to get one though. And it might have been even more fun to let her think it was true and have her wait night after night for the day she had to do something so wicked…but he couldn't live with that look on her face much longer than it had to be there. Poor thing had bitten off far more than she could chew. If he'd been standing close, he'd have reached out to put a hand over her arm just to settle her nerves.

"That one was a quip," he assured her, trying not to laugh. "Not serious."

Color rushed back into her face, and she shook her head for a moment, almost as though she'd been light-headed, and then she did the most unexpected thing. She smiled. She snorted! Small and light enough that no one in her polite society would have noticed it, but it was there. She'd laughed right along with his joke. It was entirely unexpected. Yelling. Screaming. A delicate little nose turned up at such a disgusting excuse for a joke, any of that would have done! But a small laugh on her part and to say nothing but "right" as she located the fallen cup and stooped to retrieve it…that was uncharacteristic for the girl he'd watched. Had he broken her or not? Did he want to? He thought he did, but the idea that she might not be the person he'd watched in his ball saddened him. She'd be much more fun unbroken. He just hadn't known that until now.

"Oh…my…"

He leaned over to the side of the table to watch her when she didn't rise. Her face was twisted, nervous and sad looking all over again as she examined the cup she'd just retrieved.

"I'm so sorry, but…ah…it's-it's chipped," she shrugged turning it this way and that.

Was it? It was difficult to see in the firelight, with the jewels of that awful and impractical gown winking at him. For goodness sake, did she know how much cleavage she revealed at this angle? Holy men would have called it sinful. He wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the blush rising in her chest right now.

"Y-you-you can hardly see it!" she commented when he didn't respond. Her words drew his gaze back up to her face, twisted and worried with concern, and he had the urge to laugh, to tell a joke as he had before just to get her to laugh too. Such worry over a cup? Over something so insignificant? When she was so…

He shook his head, chasing away the haziness she'd put there. "Well, it's just a cup," he shrugged away.

Just a cup. And she was just a girl. A beautiful girl. He hadn't been caught off guard like that by a beautiful girl for years. This one…that beauty of hers could potentially be a problem. At least for the small bit of man he had left in him. In truth, he didn't even know he could make note of such things anymore. He was certain that would fade with time, but until then, it was best to be careful around her. It was best not to pay attention to firelight in her hair, or the blush in her chest, or the gentle way she smiled when she rose to pour him another cup of tea into the same cup she'd only just chipped.

She presented it to him honestly at least, a quality he could appreciate in a maid. But as she retreated to the corner of the room like a good servant to wait for him to finish his, drink he looked down at the cup...and his heart stopped.

He hadn't known, he hadn't seen until she'd presented it, which tea set she'd used. It was the one that he'd gotten when he first met Granny years ago. He always remembered a deal, but couldn't have forgotten this tea set if he tried! He'd completed a great task in order to extract something so simple as this tea set. And why? It wasn't terribly expensive or even beautiful for its time. No, he'd wanted it because of this, for this cup! The second he'd set foot in the home of its previous owner, it had called to him. It had practically jumped up and down and screamed, "take me. I'm yours!" But the first time he held it in his hands…it had been imperfect. Whole. It had been whole. And the Seer had whispered words in his head. "Not the right time", "too whole", "too perfect". He'd had no idea what it meant. After a few years of getting nowhere with it, he'd retired the set to some corner of the castle. Apparently, that corner had been the kitchen, for here it was again before him. Only this time, as he held the cup, now blemished and imperfect by a silly little chip he could repair with a wave of his hand if he wished to, in his hands the words he heard the Seer whisper were different.

 _"Complete, whole, perfect,"_ she whispered over and over again. _"Complete, whole, perfect. Complete, whole, perfect. Complete, whole, perfect."_

Just a cup…not likely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, though it may seem slow to you, is super important and it was really fun to write. I told you I got to do a lot of fun things for this section and one of those fun things was researching how men fall in love (because, FYI, I am, in fact, a woman). It was perfect. In my research, much to my happy surprise, I found that the way men fall in love is...layered. If a man doesn't know a woman, he usually is attracted first and foremost to a physical trait first (not always, but usually boobs and butt, sorry men, just repeating what I've learned). During a conversation there is usually something about the personality that they then find interest in, ("Oh, she likes sports too, perfect"), then another less obvious physical aspect comes into play ("those dimples are cute"), deeper interest ("and she's a fan of the Clippers, I love talking to her!), and then it sort of builds like that over and over again over time until the two kind of combine ("I love the way her smile lights up when she talks about basketball") and there you have it: a man in love. If a man does know a woman before being attracted to her, that is they have some kind of relationship either as friends or colleagues, it's essentially the same thing except you skip the first step and it comes at a later time. (Men if this is not your experience forgive me, I just read tons of articles and I'm parroting.) So with Rumple, his relationship to Belle is interesting because he doesn't really know her ahead of time, but she's not really a stranger either. So if you read back through all the Belle chapters thus far, I've been trying to carefully include these little layers. In her bed-chamber, before he even looks at her, he's struck by the books that she reads. In the counsel room he mentions that he likes her shoulders as well as being impressed by her boldness. Now here in this chapter, again he's impressed by her knowledge, her resourcefulness, her strength, and then what do we get? He's drawn to her cleavage and the realization that she's beautiful. It's all been carefully done so that we can sit here and know that he's falling in love long before he does.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, RolfB for the comments you left on the previous chapter. Things do start to pick up here after this chapter. We'll be in 2x19 for a bit but their interactions are a bit less...detailed. I really just wanted this chapter to get the idea that Belle is beautiful out of the way for Rumple. It seemed silly that after 200 years he'd behave like a 13-year-old boy stomping around and saying "she's not pretty! I don't like her!" So instead I thought we'd not beat around the bush, outright get him to say "Yeah, she's pretty, I'm going to have to not be drawn into that." And then...you know...watch him fail miserably. Peace and Happy Reading!


	102. Regretful Decisions

He was beginning to regret this decision he'd made about the girl.

When he'd first come up with this plan, he'd thought it would be fine. He'd get the princess away from her father and be able to watch her as he deciphered her role in the future. In return, he'd get his home cleaned. It seemed like it was foolproof. And yet here he was again gritting his teeth and rubbing his forehead because she was giving him a headache. She did that a lot.

His first mistake had been in assuming she'd be a maid, and he soon saw the error of that assumption. She was "the help", and as such, he'd given her run of the castle, remembering that he'd never seemed to have a problem with any of his previous little helpers. But then she wasn't a typical maid. She wasn't trained for it like all the others. They had all been born and raised to be quiet and demur, to keep to themselves and to keep to the status they'd been born to. Belle had not. She'd been raised among maids, and so she'd learned early to ignore the servants, and it showed. She turned up everywhere and anywhere he didn't want her. In one of her first days, she'd stumbled into his tower while he'd been there. He'd been working on a delicate potion, one that required precision when she'd let out a small gasp and began to apologize profusely for walking in on him. He'd dropped what he had in his hand, the vial below exploded, the table caught fire, he'd grown angry with her, and before he knew it he was screaming at her to get out!

He'd meant the tower. But the moment she opened the main door, he'd realized that he'd made a mistake in frightening her and met her just before she got to the property line.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he'd exclaimed before she could leave.

She sniffled when she turned to face him, not because she'd been crying, but rather more likely that she'd caught a cold. It was Fall in the village below, which meant it was practically Winter up here, and she still had no cloak. She must have been freezing.

"You told me to get out!"

"Of the tower. But you made a deal, dearie, one that lasts forever unless broken by me. These walls have protection spells all around them. Try to leave or run away, dearie, and the consequences could be…fatal!" he laughed, expecting her fact to fall or her spirits to dash. But they didn't, at least they didn't appear to.

"I wasn't trying to run away," she fought back a second later. "I would never do that! I'm well aware of why I'm here and for how long. Haven't you ever just needed a moment to breathe?"

"Plenty of air inside the castle grounds," he pointed out, though he was startled to find that he didn't find a hint of a false claim in her words. Either she had been telling the truth about her intentions, or she was a very well-trained liar. A moment later, he used his magic to get them back inside and told her to get back to work, assuming that she'd learned her lesson about his private spaces.

It turned out he was really very poor at making assumptions where the girl was concerned.

She did her chores, some of them better than others. She was a terrible cook and mediocre at dusting, but she knew how to change the sheets on a bed just fine. Laundry was less than adequate, he determined one morning when he realized she'd stained a shirt. He could have roared and screamed at her, but that would have meant interacting with her once again, and he was determined to avoid interactions unless absolutely necessary. He simply put his vest on over it and remembered that he didn't have to waste time or energy on it himself now.

When she wasn't doing her chores, she explored the castle constantly, day in and day out. If it weren't for the fact that he locked her in the dungeon every night, he had no doubt that she would be exploring night in and night out too! She went places that he'd rather her not go, and seemed to study things he'd rather her not study. He felt like his hackles were always up around her. A silent alarm in the back of his head went off every time she entered his room, or even Baelfire's old room. He had to convince himself every time that it was acceptable if she was only doing laundry or changing sheets. She had a bad habit of stumbling upon him in his upper tower, which was causing him to look over his shoulder every other minute. And the day that he felt a shiver crawl up his spine, an indication she was not where she was supposed to be again, he'd had it.

"Careful!" he cried loudly, sneaking up behind her. She jumped about a mile in the air and let out a gasp as she covered her mouth then her chest. "That vault has no doors for a reason," he warned, catching her staring down the hallway to an arch without a door. "Only Dark Magic dwells in this castle dearie, if you're not careful, you might just regret getting too close!"

He was trying to scare her, he was good enough to admit it. The problem was that she never seemed to be frightened, not the way he wanted her too. He yelled, he snuck up on her, he laughed at the most inappropriate of times and yet time and time again she just ignored him, turned on her heel, put her nose in the air, and stomped off.

He supposed that had been when the real problems started, or at least that was when he'd had to admit that those issues they'd had in the beginning were not really "problems" at all. It was after that incident that things changed. And he meant that literally. She stopped exploring so much and began to let herself into the empty tower across from his more and more. Often times, when he tracked her down with his crystal ball, when things got too quiet, he found her at the tower's window, looking down over the little village. Daydreaming. What did he expect when he had a princess for a maid?

She seemed overwhelmed. Sometimes too overwhelmed. He was beginning to notice she made stupid decisions when she was overwhelmed. The day she'd burst into his tower and nearly ran off the grounds had only been the beginning of it. One afternoon, after he'd been working all day and she'd been unusually busy moving about the castle, he came into the great room, and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor at what he saw.

She'd moved the furniture!

No! Not just any bit of furniture, his wheel! The wheel he liked to spin at when he wanted to get away from working in the tower, the wheel he used to spin thread. The wheel he'd taken from his aunt's home. It and the platform he kept it upon were halfway across the room!

"Why is my wheel over here?!" he demanded, breaking a silence that had lasted between them for days now.

"I needed to sweep," she explained with a shrug of her shoulders, as if it were nothing.

He had to take several steadying breathes to make it through the next few seconds. He'd had the entire evening planned out. A good evening. After her questionable dinner, he'd intended to lock her in her dungeon room and spin, but the thought of spinning on his wheel when it was out of place…

It was fine. It would be fine. She said she'd needed to sweep and so he'd let her sleep. That would last a day at best. He could live for that long.

He tried not to let her see how off-putting it was to him, but he had made a rather loud noise on his way back out of the room and skipped dinner that night.

He'd been on edge the rest of the night. From the moment he locked her away to the moment he released her, all he'd imagined was that wonderful moment when he arrived downstairs to dinner and found his wheel in the place that he liked it, could spin for a few hours of peace, then get back to work once the girl was locked away!

But the next day, nothing happened as it should have. And when he came down just before dinner to make sure that it was all as it should be, he had to clench his jaw tight just so he didn't pick something up and break it. Throwing the fraudulent grail across the room and shattering some windows was looking like a good idea. Probably because he could actually see the fucking windows!

"What did you do?!" he growled as he looked around. His wheel wasn't where it belonged, the curtains were open to the windows and the valley below, and now there was this…thing! A couch that he knew he'd seen in another room somewhere in this place! She'd dragged it from wherever it had been into this room and it now sit in the place that his wheel was supposed to be sitting.

"Cleaned, what you told me to do," she answered shortly. Defiantly!

He didn't know what the colors red and green made when mixed together, but she was about to find out because he felt all the blood rush to his face in anger.

"Why did you have to open the curtains?!"

She looked as though he'd struck her. Her jaw dropped, she shook her head in shock. She sneered, outright sneered in his direction. What the hell was she doing? What did she think she was doing?! This wasn't her castle, this wasn't her palace! It was his home! His things! His curtains! She was his help! And so far, all she was doing was being anything but helpful! She was a nuisance, her father was probably glad to be rid of her!

Oh no! No, no, no, he had to put a stop to this kind of behavior right now! Those curtains hadn't been opened since Bae was here, and they wouldn't be opened again until he was back! If he'd wanted their light, he'd have opened them himself!

He needed to do something. His fingers were starting to go numb, he realized, from clenching them too tightly. He could have thrown something at her. If he didn't do something soon, he probably would. His wheel. It was in the wrong place, but it was there. And there was fresh straw for him to spin as well. Maybe the fact that it was in the wrong place was good. Maybe then it would allow him to continue to fume while calming down so he didn't change his mind and kill her.

"This all goes back the way it was…tomorrow!" he hollered at her over his shoulder as he sat down. "The curtains get closed, the wheel goes back to where I like it, and you'll have to find somewhere else to put that…thing!"

That was his mantra all throughout dinner. Tomorrow the curtains closed, the wheel was righted, the couch was gone. Tomorrow the curtains closed, the wheel was righted, the couch was gone. Tomorrow he curtains closed, the wheel was righted, the couch was gone.

He repeated it over and over and over to himself throughout dinner. When she set his plate down before him so hard that it rattled, he repeated it. When he ate whatever the dish in front of him was supposed to be and wanted to gag, he repeated it. When he locked her in her dungeon cell, and she glared at him, he repeated it. All throughout the night, as he sat at his wheel and didn't bother getting work down, he repeated it. Over and over and over.

He could set things right himself. He knew he could. With a flick of his wrist, the curtains would close, his wheel would be where he liked it, and that couch would be nothing but wood for the fires he burned. He could do it. But he wanted her to. She was the reason it was like this, she was the reason there was so much upset in his life, and he wanted her to be the one to have to make it right again. It was a fair punishment. Right along with his mantra he began to add images, to watch her face fall as she pulled each curtain shut once more and drenched the place in shadows. He watched as she huffed and puffed and dragged the wheel, platform, and stool, back over to the corner and got it right to where it was. He imagined the look on her face as she shut the door to some room that fancy couch of hers ended up in. Maybe for effect, he'd seal that room off for good, make sure she couldn't get into it ever again. Maybe that would teach her a lesson.

Those words and images, they were good enough to keep him calm throughout the night, until it was near morning.

Just after the sun began to rise, which he noticed for the first time in probably a century because of the damn open curtains, he became aware of a new noise in the hall he hadn't heard before but was quick to identify. It was sobbing. Someone, somewhere, was crying. Well, damn. There were two of them in the castle, and it certainly wasn't him who was crying. That only left the perfect little princess in the downstairs dungeon. Good. Served her right to be upset.

He tried to ignore it, to go back to repeating his words and imagining his good thoughts, but it was nearly impossible. It was ridiculous. Impossible even! She was all the way in the dungeons, so far from him that a normal human shouldn't have been able to hear the sounds of her sobs. But he could. Probably because he was the Dark the One and not a normal human. They echoed inside of his mind so that she may as well be standing before him weeping. And why each one of those sobs felt like they were echoing not off the stone walls of the castle but inside the depths of his soul was beyond him.

Perhaps this wasn't the best of ideas after all. Maybe he should make other arrangements for her, maybe send her to Regina as a maid and let her staff take care of her, train her, turn her into what a proper maid should be. He was sure that there she'd make it all of three days before that fire of hers was smothered. Maybe then he could get some work done. Or maybe…maybe…it was hard to think of maybes when she kept crying like that!

Finally, he felt something inside of him snap and was off like lightning, heading for the dungeons. In his mind, the Seer had never had a personality, not like the Dark Ones he shared his brain with. She gave him visions and riddles on occasion, but she never seemed to address him, his situations, his emotions, his thoughts, not like the others did. And yet suddenly for the first time, she did. She brought him to a standstill on the stairs just before he got to her dungeon when her words, breathy soft echoed through his head.

_Don't kill her, she's important._

Why? Why was she important?! If the Seer were more than just a voice, a power in his head, he would have decided to kill her in that moment instead of the maid. Why was she important?! If she would just tell him, give him a vision, issue one of those riddles he hated so that he might get some kind of idea then he wouldn't need to keep her so close, he could make proper arrangements for her, and he wouldn't feel the need to kill her!

The Seer was silent. No vision. No words. There was only the sound of sobs coming loud and clear from the dungeon before him. But now he felt calm. Or at least more than he had a few seconds ago. "She's important." It was amazing the effect those words could have on him. Three seconds ago, he might have killed her out of sheer insanity. Now he didn't have it in him to murder her, but he couldn't let her just continue to cry and go on the way she was either.

"When you so eagerly agreed to come and work for me…" he declared, opening her cell room door. Like a picture, she'd been on the little cot, curled into a ball, sobbing, with the blanket held close to her. The moment he walked in the door, she attempted to roll off quickly and pretend as if she wasn't falling apart. As if her face wasn't swollen enough to give it away, her chest was heaving like she couldn't get enough air in. She was a terrible actress. Fortunately, he found that he was rather skilled at acting. "I assumed you wouldn't miss your family quite so much."

Yes. That was it. Pretend it was that she missed her family. Pretend it was her time of the month. Pretend she'd stubbed a toe or had a headache or anything that wasn't directly related to yesterday.

She was a terrible actress, but she knew how to take the bait, at least.

"I made my sacrifice for them, of course, I miss them, you beast!" she shouted back, using the excuse that he had provided her. Who knew, women were complicated, maybe it really was part of it.

"Yes, yes, of course, but the crying must stop!" he insisted. "Night after night, it's making it very difficult for me to spin! I do my best thinking then!"

Her response was silence. She stared at him with an open mouth and a runny nose and fiery eyes. She wanted to hit him. He could tell just by the way she was staring at him that she'd be content if she could take a swing. But she wouldn't. They both knew that she wouldn't, she was far too proper for anything like that. And soon enough, like a proper lady would, she turned away from him. She would have been taught to do it because her face was a mess, but he had the feeling it was more to do with the fact that she just didn't want to look at him anymore. Brave girl. He hated to admit that, but there weren't many who would turn their backs on him. And if she was daring enough to do that, then what made him think she was going to stop crying just because he told her to?

Did she really cry night after night? He'd taken a guess at that, he truly didn't know. But the way she reacted made him think that maybe she did. In that case…

Into his hand, he summoned a pillow, white with tassels, something soft and luxurious, something she might have had in her other life.

"Perhaps this'll help?" he tempted.

She turned back and looked at what he presented her with. "For me?"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her. Who else would it be for?

"Not quite so beastly now, am I?" he said as he tossed it her and turned to leave.

"Thank you!" she called after him, her tone sour and filled anything other than gratefulness. "Perhaps now I can actually get some sleep!"

"No, no, no," he argued, turning around. Stupid girl! He'd never met someone so unnerving! From brave to stupid in only a few seconds was exceptional! This might have actually been a somewhat decent interaction if she hadn't chosen to lace it with such a malice filled comment!

"It's not to help you sleep," he corrected. "It's to muffle the crying so that I can get back to work!"

He braced himself for a comment. He prepared himself to withstand another verbal tongue lashing and was determined to give it right back to her…until he felt something. An alarm was raised somewhere in the back of his head, and it wasn't because of the woman in front of him. Someone was in the castle. Someone who didn't belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we find ourselves in the 2x19 episode which is a bit of a conundrum for me. While I do stand by my assertion that this fiction begins to pick up in this chapter (no longer purposefully slow), the chapters for this episode seem to go on and on and on. Ironic right. This episode seemed to have so little Rumbelle, but when you really break down Rumple's role in it then it's a lot longer than it appears. Plus, you'll note later, I threw in part of the 2x20 episode as well. It fit in perfectly and besides that I wanted to avoid at all costs getting into a blocked form of one episode, then another, then another. I wanted this fiction to breathe and the story to seem free. Sometimes that means episodes will cross over. You'll see how it works soon.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! Much appreciated! Up next, we'll continue to dive into 2x19 and find out who is breaking into Rumple's castle. Gee...I wonder...who ever could it be?! Peace and Happy Reading!


	103. Don't You Just Love Magic

The sound of glass breaking upstairs shook him from his stupor. In half a second, he'd turned on his heel and run back up the stairs, his mind already going through all the possibilities. The Dark Curse was safely stored away in his Tower, there wasn't any chance that someone would take that from him before he got there. The glass sounded like it had come from right above, in the Great Hall. Likely, whoever it was, wouldn't get much farther than that before he stumbled onto them.

Not everyone in heaven and on earth, or even the Underworld, was interested in his Curse.

As he rounded the corner and peered into the Great Room, looking for the suspect, he managed to catch him in the act. What it appeared he was interested in removing wasn't the Curse, but it was something just as rare. The thief stood in his Great Room, a cloak over his face, before the pedestal where he kept his fairy wand, the one that he hadn' seen in his vision of the future. His fingers were removing it from its home as if it were made of delicate glass. He couldn't blame him for that, a wand did feel very delicate, but he knew from experience just how strong they really were. Being made of fairy magic could have that effect.

"Are you sure you want to do this, dearie?!" he warned with a sinister smile. There was no denying now that he'd been caught, but he was curious about how he was going to react. There was no possibility he was going to let the wand leave his home, and he probably didn't know it yet, but there was no possibility he was going to let the thief leave his home either, not without an explanation. He was no fool. No one attempted to break into his castle, no one was that stupid. And if they were they weren't going to just settle for a fairy wand. That meant that the thief had eyes only for that object and nothing else, which meant that someone had told him right where it was. He wanted to know who! And if he could help him, perhaps tempt him to make a deal and tell him who had spoken of the objects he had in his home, then perhaps the poor dear would be allowed to leave all in one piece.

Unfortunately, the man who pushed the hood of his cloak off his face and met his eyes did appear to be a fool, at least if the look on his face was any indication. He was smiling. It was almost as sinister as his own was. And he was looking him dead in the eye, which was only something that an idiot did. How else was he supposed to interpret a gaze like that other than seeing it as a threat?

"Pretty sure," the stranger replied, wand still in hand.

"If you don't know how to use that wand, it can do nasty things to you," he warned, but all the while his brain was working.

Something was familiar. There was something odd about the man, the whispers in his head knew it, even the Seer seemed to know it! But what was it? His face wasn't familiar, and he remembered every deal he'd ever made. The voice didn't ring any bells, either. But there was a magic about him that struck a chord, it was familiar. He'd encountered it somewhere before. But where?

"Well then, I'll stick to what I know works." The thief boldly slid the wand into the quiver behind him and exchanged it for an arrow. "Do you know what this arrow would do to you?"

Indeed, he did know what it would do to him. A bit of pain, maybe a moment of shock, but nothing permanent. He was, however, suddenly aware that Belle had followed him up the stairs and now stood behind him. He had no idea what kind of an archer the man before him was, but he knew that an arrow in his chest was a lot less threatening than an arrow in her chest.

"Has to hit me first," he taunted before using his magic to run quick and out of focus. With any luck the pair could feel him in the room but not see him, and it would cause enough of a stir that his intruder might focus on him instead of harmless woman in yellow.

It worked. When he finally stopped running, he was over by the far wall and it was clear that he held the man's attention, not her. He could shoot his arrow all he wanted now, but even if he was a terrible shot, it would take a miracle for him to hit the girl even by accident.

"Shouldn't be a problem," the man stated, taking a step closer and pulling the bowstring back to aim. "An arrow fired by this bow always finds its target…" The man paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "Don't you just love magic?" he questioned with a smile before taking proper aim once more and firing.

Yes, he did love magic, and this was why…

As the arrow freed itself from the thief's bow, he moved again, disappeared from view, and reappeared right behind him. Close as he was now, he could all too easily reach out and snap the boy's neck if he wanted, but all he did was extend his senses and take a deep breath. Magic. He could sense it easier now that he had something to investigate. There were two different spells at play here both of them familiar. The first was one that covered the thief, but the second was pulsing within the bow he held in his hand. An arrow fired by that bow would always find its target. That wasn't the work of an expert archer, it was the work of magic. It was that very fact that made him look up at where he'd last seen the arrow. He wasn't surprised to find it hadn't imbedded itself in the wall behind the place he'd been standing. Instead, it was turning, curling unnaturally in the air, and coming for him once more.

It wasn't going to stop until it found him. He didn't recommend it, but in the seconds before it hit, he directed his magic to the place in his chest it was going to penetrate, then braced himself as he allowed it to lodge itself into his heart. He barely felt it, but made a sound of shock and surprise just the same as it hit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Belle begin to move toward him, but he ignored her as he watched the would-be assassin move to the door with his wand still in hand, or quiver as it were.

"I know I do," was all he said as he marched off, assuming he was a free man.

Fool.

Before Belle could make it to him, he disappeared once more and appeared right in the path of the Thief, stopping him before he could leave.

"As…do…I!" he cried as he pulled the arrow from his chest. With a wave of his hand, the arrow was gone, and the slight wound to his chest was healed. And that was all it took to get the fool before him to appear shocked and dismayed. He didn't know who he was, but clearly, he hadn't done enough homework before sneaking into this place, otherwise he might have come armed with squid ink, or something that might have actually worked to keep him at bay.

"But don't you know?" he yelled, advancing on him, enjoying the way his eyes widened, and his fingers twitched uselessly without anything that could defend him. "All magic comes with a price! In your case, that's me!"

With a thought, a simple summoning, thick ropes appeared and bent to his will, curling and coiling around his victim so tight he could neither move, nor yell, nor scarcely breathe more than was necessary. He fell to the floor and as he lay there squirming, he was quick to strip him of the quiver and bow that he held in his fingers.

There was work to be done with this one. Work that gave him a small thrill. He had to know who had sent him here, who had told him about that wand and why they wanted it? Was it the fairies? Ursula? Cruella? Maleficent? Was it someone trying to get back at him? Did he need to fortify his defenses? Was the Apprentice on to him? Was someone coming for his Curse?! He needed to know these things. And he was going to enjoy getting their spy to tell him everything!

But first, he removed the wand from the place he'd stored it in the quiver. With a sigh, he set it back upon its pedestal. It wasn't the Curse, but it was easily one of the most important items he had in his collection. He'd have lamented being rid of it. Fortunately, that hadn't happened.

He strode back over to his prisoner, still struggling against his bonds, and looked down, sneering at him. "Don't you just love magic?" he questioned again before pulling on the ropes that held him and dragging him back the way he'd come.

On his way out, he pushed the bow and quiver of arrows into his maid's cold and pale arms. Her jaw was open, that much he could see, but at the moment, he couldn't look her in the eye and knew he didn't need to. All he'd see was a woman in shock.

"Do something with these, Belle," he ordered before dragging her new neighbor down into the dungeons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack! I wasn't happy with how this chapter came out. It was also super awkward in Moments. I think it's one of those that is heavy on the action and so it just doesn't translate well. The other chapters translate much better, I promise. But, all that aside, if I've done my job right then this scene should make a lot more sense because I readded that deleted scene of Robin returning to the castle. We see here that there is magic on him that is familiar, he knows where the wand is, and just like last time when Robin snuck onto the property without Rumple sensing him right away, he does it again here. How? I don't know. He's a thief, I assume he has magic of some kind. That's not for me to solve, but rather for whoever does the Robin Hood version of Chronicles and Moments. I just set it up to make it work with the story.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB for your comments. 2x19 is a journey all on its own and I hope that you are looking forward to going through it again with me, regardless of this chapter! I think you'll remember a few of the twists and turns in the next few chapters and I hope you'll like it all over again! Peace and Happy Reading!


	104. The Friendly Interrogation

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Perhaps he would have noticed earlier if it weren't for the fact that he'd spent most of his day screaming and shouting. He'd captured the thief that morning, then taken him down into his dungeon to get some answers out of him. He wanted to know his name, why he wanted the wand, who had told him there was one in his castle, who had told him how to break in, where to find the wand, how he'd managed to get so close without being detected, who had given him that bow?

They'd been at it for hours. For hours he'd questioned the prisoner. For hours the prisoner had remained quiet. Mostly. They spoke, of course, he gave answers to his questions, they just weren't the answers that he wanted. "I'll never tell." "You'll never know." "My sources are my own." "I'm a skilled thief, I need no help." "It was lying out for all the world to see." "From another realm." Those were his answers. Or at least some variation on those answers all day long. What had started as a gentle and prodding conversation had soon escalated. When he'd left for dinner, after warning the man to consider his loyalties carefully, his throat had felt raw.

He hadn't a clue what the maid had fixed for dinner. He didn't taste it, didn't even look at it. Just took a long drink of water to soothe his throat and shoveled food into his mouth. He didn't intend to return to the man, not tonight, not when he was as angry as he was. If he went down there again tonight, he would likely kill the man. One answer. All he needed was one answer, and he would have something that he could use against him then he was certain he could get the man to break. That wand was a centerpiece in his collection. He couldn't just ignore an attempt to steal it.

That was the last thought he'd had before he realized how quiet it was.

It probably was no different than an ordinary night. Despite his new live-in maid, it was an expansive castle, it was hard for two people to make noise no matter how annoying one of them was. But that was just the problem. Tonight wasn't an ordinary night. He should hear something. He should have heard her shrieking her disgust at him for keeping the prisoner by now. He should have heard irritated sighs and felt the glare of her eyes upon him. But he didn't. Just like it was a normal night, she'd given him his food and gone.

Gone where?

He knew where.

He wanted to roar, to yell, and to scream at her. She had a soft heart, a weak one, and he felt certain that he'd left the door to the damn cell vulnerable to the outside world. He had to do something about that, but first, he had the feeling he was going to have to do something about her!

He was nearly to the cell when the silence stopped. His suspicions were confirmed. Muttering. He could hear it between two people, the first was the familiar voice of the thief, the second was the gentle voice of his all too gullible servant. If she thought that she was going to go in there and-

"Don't call him that!" he heard her roar out. It wasn't her words that made him feel like he'd been slapped in the face. It was her tone. He'd heard her sound powerful before, but this was stronger than that. She'd spoken in her father's war room with authority, but this was angry. It was an anger that was red and hot and so different from the chilly cold anger she used when she was with him. "He's not my master," he heard her insist. "And he doesn't control my fate any more than you do. I'm here because of me, because of my own choices!"

"See," he heard the prisoner comment. "I knew there was more to you."

"And what about more to you?"

He heard the words, but only just barely. While she'd shouted at him, he'd only made a simple calm comment. She hadn't just brought him food or intended to set him free. The pair were having a conversation. And up until she'd asked her question, no matter what it was, he'd intended to go in and break it up, but now he wondered. She was a welcoming, non-intimidating soul. Could she get the answers that he craved? Could she at least get him anything he could use?! He crept closer, keeping his footsteps light as he listened to them talk. It sounded like the foolish girl had left the door wide open. Bless the ignorant.

"Good thief or not, why would anyone try to break in here? Why would anyone steal a wand?!" he heard her ask him. He stopped and held his breath, waiting for the answer.

"For good reason."

"And what exactly might that be?"

He smiled and held back a small chuckle. There she went again, impressing him when he least expected it. A proper young woman would have taken the cues he'd left her with and not come back to the question. But she was persistent.

"That's my concern."

And so was he.

"And the reason that you didn't simply make a deal with him like everyone else on the planet-"

"Because I'll be in debt to no man! Much less a monster like that!" he snapped quickly at her. Finally! Information he hadn't heard from the man. And that information led to pride! Oh, how quickly it could be someone's downfall. "Much like you, I am my own person, and I don't wish to pay an over-inflated price for something I can do on my own or something that should be done for free for the greater good."

And look where that decision had gotten him. Stuck in a jail cell, being questioned by a girl and a monster. Pride never did lead to smart choices.

Inside the cell, he heard Belle sigh with something like disappointment. Frustration, perhaps? That she hadn't gotten any farther than he had? Or had she? They were talking, which was more than he could say for all the hours he'd spent with him. And they had been talking before he'd arrived to listen. Suddenly he yearned to hear what he'd missed.

"Where are you from?" she asked simply, with obvious genuine curiosity.

"All over. I go where I'm needed."

"Have you been to Avonlea recently?" she asked.

Now that caught his attention. Had he been to Avonlea "recently" she wanted to know. Not last year or ever in his life, but "recently". Was she trying to use her influence? Send a message to her family? Did she know him?

"That Kingdom has never needed my particular brand of services, and up until recently they were involved in a terrible war, destruction of the entire Kingdom. It was unsafe territory to trod."

"Until recently?" she prodded with a strained voice.

"The ogres were removed not long ago. The Kingdom is rebuilding, but still well off without the threat. Why is it so important to you?" he questioned after a pause. "Do you have family there?"

He dug up his magic, prepared to extract her should she attempt to reveal something he didn't want her to. Instead, after a few seconds, when she finally spoke, all she muttered were the words "something like that."

"Something like that." Heavy with emotion, perhaps even a little sniff. Something like that…she hadn't been asking because she was trying to send for help, or get a message, or even tell the thief who she was. She'd asked because she didn't know what had happened there. Because she didn't trust him. He couldn't blame her, but for some reason that realization ripped through him. How had he not thought of that before? Why hadn't it dawned on him to give her some assurance her home was well?

"You are a woman of many mysteries then, aren't you?" the thief observed. Many mysteries indeed. And none that he would need to discover in his time here. It was clear their conversation was going nowhere. Perhaps it was time to break it up. But how to do it?

"And now, you need to leave and not return!"

For a moment, he thought that the words had been a vision, something he'd concocted in his own head. It wasn't until she responded with a shocked "what?!" of her own that he realized the prisoner had spoken the words aloud for him.

"Servant, or something more, I won't bear knowing that you are risking your life just to bring a thief food. You are kind, and no matter who you are, your life is valuable. Don't come back here and put yourself in danger again. Please."

A thief with a code of honor. Now he really had seen it all. And yet the very idea of such a thing was familiar to him, and he still couldn't figure out why. Where had he seen all this before?

He needed to leave. He needed to go before the pair caught him eavesdropping on their conversation. As much as it pained him to admit it, she had gotten farther with him than he had. And she was a naïve kind of person. He was issuing his warning and request, but he could easily see her disobeying it in the future. But not if she knew he was listening. He had to go before she-

"Belle!"

He stopped when the prisoner cried out for her. He knew her name…did she know his?

"I am grateful, for everything you've done and are doing for me, and for the meal. Don't underestimate yourself, it was quite delicious."

"Thank you," he heard her mutter before her footsteps quickened and grew closer.

He rolled his eyes and let himself disappear before being discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unless you have been keeping up with Moments you might have forgotten this scene exists. There is a reason I have him listen to it here, but I'm going to keep that as a mystery for just a bit longer. Of course, if you really want to know, you can head over to Moments and find out why I had to have him hear it. That being said, this chapter, Rumple overhearing Belle, it is a good example of why this section is so long. Up until this section, everything for Rumple has sort of gone along in a very rigid manner. It's been one event after another and nothing in between. It's because he's alone. He has nothing else to do with his time except spin and plot. So until he gets Belle everything is orderly and "work-focused". But the appearance of Belle (even Jefferson and Cora to a certain extent but more Belle), it gives him a personal life. It gives him something to do in his time off, someone to talk to, to study, to listen for. He hasn't had that since Baelfire. So, yes, this section is long, because for the first time in a long time, since Baelfire, he has someone to share life with even if he doesn't want to. And trust me, when she's gone, and things go back to the way they were, I think the true meaning of this is going to become even more clear!
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapters. Short chapter. It's not from the show but taken word for word from Belle's chapter in Moments. These chapters always make me a bit nervous because I have to remember that I can only edit them to a certain point otherwise I have to go change the chapter in Moments too. Peace and Happy Reading!


	105. Uncooperative Plans

Sometimes, summonings were hands down, the most irritating thing about being the Dark One! Most of the time he considered them an opportunity. A chance to take advantage of someone, to add something to his collection, or teach a valuable lesson that always benefitted him. Unless they came at the wrong time. Then summonings were frustrating. Almost as frustrating as thieves who wouldn't talk and maids who pretended like nothing was happening!

She was a sneaky lass. That wasn't something he'd expected from her when he first brought her home with him, but she'd proved to him that she could be. The day after her little talk with the prisoner, she acted as though nothing had changed. She looked, perhaps, a little more well-rested than she had the morning he'd given her that pillow, but there wasn't a single word uttered that might give him the impression she'd talked to the man, not a smirk, not a gesture or even an attitude betrayed her. It was almost cruel. He'd been fair to her; she couldn't give him just a single fact that she'd learned?!

Well, he'd punish her too then. He could have made a deal with her, see just how far she would take her false ignorance. But why make a deal when he was confident he could break one or the other and get the information he wanted. He'd show them both just how cruel he could be. He'd show the boy just how much pain he could take and make sure the girl questioned just how long she was willing to let it continue every night before she went to bed. With any luck, one of them would break. Perhaps it would be him, who wanted the pain to end. Or maybe it would be her, who would take mercy on him and confess their conversation so that he would stop. Oh, the anticipation of which one it would be was killing him.

One of the previous Dark Ones had been a torturer. He'd been alive a long, long, long time ago. He couldn't remember the name of this Dark One, frankly he didn't care to, all he cared about was the information he stole from him and adopted for himself.

It was bloody work; tedious, bloody work. He wanted to hear screams, he wanted Belle to hear screams! He wanted her to listen to moans of pain and screams of agony. He left smock after smock of bloody leather for her to clean. Let her watch as he chose his knives carefully before descending to the dungeons. He wanted so badly for her to rush in one of these days, throw herself between him and the thief, and tell him everything, or at least beg the prisoner to spare himself and end this!

This…

He let her watch as he took sharp and intimidating objects down to the dungeon for their guest, but he often didn't use them. Often times magic was all he needed. Slice through the skin. Then heal it. Another cut. Then another and another. Let the blood pour out of him, then seal his body back up to perfection. Sometimes he made use of chains. Sometimes he enjoyed watching the man attempt to stay strong.

Most of the time he found himself wanting to stop. He was growing bored, tired of all this, and on more than one occasion, he'd tried to think of an appropriate way to end it all. He had no truth potion ready or on hand, and it took weeks to brew, otherwise he would have been content to feed it to him. Without answers the way he saw it the prisoner had two options. Let the prisoner leave alive and follow him to get his answers or send him away dead with a mystery on his hands. He didn't like either of those options. It had been days. He thought one of them would have cracked by now. And he had other things he could be doing…like responding to the summoning he heard now.

He was mid-session. He'd strung the thief up by his wrists and just healed a broken nose. He was pale, so much paler than when he'd first arrived and for a good reason. At the end of the day, he'd probably drained half his blood from his body, cut him and healed him well over two hundred times, screamed at him, poked him, strangled him, and so much more he'd forgotten to make note of.

Still, he didn't talk.

Regina was calling him. For what point he didn't know. She would be easy to ignore, he'd done it before. But if he didn't know any better, he was more tired of this than the thief was. Perhaps a change in tactic was necessary. He was certain Belle hadn't been down to see him since that first night, but he'd also always been lurking. Maybe if he left for a bit and put the two of them in the castle together, alone, they might feel they could have another discussion. Perhaps she'd manage to play the role of the crying damsel and talk some sense into him, though he very much doubted she'd do such a thing. For day after day as she rested well and woke to see him sleep faded from her eyes and what remained was anger. She really did hate what was happening to the man. Why hadn't she said anything?!

Yes, maybe a break for him and a final push for the pair of them was all that he needed.

He held his hand up and let the man's nose break all over again. He screamed as more blood poured from it. This was usually where he asked a question, but instead, he healed him, then crept closer and wrapped a hand around his neck.

"I'm going to let you hang here for a while…we'll have another little chat when I return, you might want to think on just how important your allies are in your life, if their loyalty is worth all...this," he hissed at him, holding up finger tips covered in his own blood.

He released him with such force the chains jangled behind him. And the boy might have talked, might have answered, but he didn't turn to listen. He had no doubt that what he was going to say was probably no different than anything he'd said any other time he'd left him alone like this.

"My loyalties aren't likely to change."

Upstairs, Belle was sweeping in the Great Room. The sun was pouring in. He knew that in all the excitement that had happened since that first day he'd discovered what she'd done, she probably assumed he'd just overlooked the fact that she hadn't done as she was asked and put things away. But he did notice. There were just far more pressing matters for him to attend to. Besides, he wanted her to go down and have another conversation with their little friend while he was away, he didn't want to give her so much to do that she was too busy while he was gone to have that chat. He wanted her to have just enough to make her angry enough to check on him. She was angry now. That much was clear in the way she made tense movements with the broom.

"I'm going to need another apron," he warned, slapping the dirty bloody gloves purposefully against the table. She'd made an attempt at cleaning it earlier. Maybe this time she'd get it right.

"They're uh…they're on the line. Drying. It'll be some time," she commented with a cold somberness. Oh yes, she was anything but happy with him at the moment. Perhaps all she needed to talk to the man and get the information that she could offer to free him was a bit of time.

"Fine, fine," he muttered, removing his current apron. A trip to Regina's should give her all the time that she needed. "Get to cleaning this one as well," he ordered, tossing it to her pile on the not-so-clean table. "I'll be back later."

He strode from the room, summoning his magic, preparing to see what it was that Regina wanted when he heard her break behind him.

"All this because he tried to steal a magic wand?!" she cried out. Her voice was filled with anger and emotion at the injustice that she obviously felt he was committing. If he weren't so tired and bored of it all, he might have smiled that he'd finally managed to bring her to a breaking point. She wouldn't last long after this.

"No, because he tried to steal from _me_ : The Dark One!" he countered, turning back to her. "You try that you get skinned alive. Everyone knows that!"

He wanted to watch her shrink, to direct her anger inward, that would only add fuel to the fire when he was gone. But to his shock and horror, it didn't go inward. It went out. He'd yelled at her, screamed even, but instead of shrinking away from him, she stood taller, more defiant in a way, and maintained the hard look into his eyes that true servants would never have dared to give him.

"Actually, no. They don't!"

He couldn't remember the last time that someone had left him speechless. He couldn't remember the last time he'd predicted human behavior so poorly that he didn't have a response prepared. Who did she think she was? What, exactly did she think was going to come from standing up to him? Did she really think that he was going to "see the error of his ways"? As a child might have and back down? She was sorely mistaken.

"Well, they will after they discover the body!" he proclaimed. And with a final laugh, he left her standing there, alone, to consider his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Straightforward. This is a scene that we saw in the show, though it was super short. However, I am using this chapter as an intro to something else. I'm going to insert a minor Rumple episode in the middle of this episode because it fits really well. Plus, it has the benefit of helping to make the fiction less...blocked. We expect all the Storybrooke stuff to be episode after episode after episode. However, with this, I wanted to not make it so blocked. There aren't a lot of opportunities for that to happen so when I saw this one I had to take it!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments of the previous chapter. I hope you'll enjoy the minor episode that I reckon happens at about the same time as this episode. To see where we are going with this then let's move on to the next chapter! Peace and Happy Reading!


	106. The Problem With Strong Women

Strong women were going to be the death of him.

What was it that he saw in them? Why was he always so attracted to the woman who seemed to be defiant? The bad girl? Or, for that matter, why was whatever the hell Zelena was always so attracted to him?! It was like they were magnets! First Milah, cowardly as she was he knew that she'd been one of those strong women, perhaps one of the first he'd ever dealt with! His aunts, truly, had been the first women he'd had experience with but their strength was far different than Milah's strength. They had used their strength for goodness, it had given them confidence and fortitude to stand against the villagers that hated them so. It had given them the courage to take in a little boy without a father and raise him as their own. Milah's strength might have evolved into that one day with the right person. When he thought back to that first meeting he'd had with her when she'd been a girl and he a teenager, he'd seen a lot of his aunts in her then. Confidence and courage…his aunts were what Milah might have been if she hadn't been such a selfish, drunken whore. Her strength had evolved, or possibly devolved, into destructive behavior that she'd used to oppress him and their son. Cora had been the same. She'd had a strength and determination about her that could have gone many ways. Surrounded by the right people Cora could have conquered the world and maybe even made it a better place, but as it was she'd been surrounded by wrong person after wrong person after wrong person, and he had no doubt it had made her what she was today: the Queen of Hearts; realms away from her family and home, and fond of tearing out hearts.

Belle was strong. He knew this. He'd known it all those years he'd watched her. But he hadn't expected her strength to manifest in the way that it had here. She was a stubborn woman. It was the worst type of strength to have. Openly defiant, unwilling to learn her place…it was radiant sometimes. But he couldn't understand what he wanted from it. There were times that he wanted to break her of it, but there were times he found himself hoping that she never lost it. Other times, like the incident downstairs, he was outright confused by what he wanted. He'd been pushing her for a response to the thief ever since he'd arrived. Now she'd finally given it, and in that moment he had felt good for finally coaxing it out of her, but why did it bother him in this moment? Why could he not stop thinking about it? Why did he sneer every time he thought of the way she'd had a response for every one of his, why did he shiver when he thought of her inability to back down, why did he have an urge to turn back time and do that moment over again? What would he change?

Nothing. He'd change nothing. And there was no use dwelling on it when there was work to be done.

Regina had called him. Another strong woman who, like Cora, could go either way. And he already knew which way fate was destined to take her.

The sun would be going down soon at his castle, which meant it would be well past dark there. He could have appeared before her in an instant but he decided to take himself upstairs to his room and change clothes first, dawning the scaly jacket he was so fond of wearing to make deals these days. As he changed, he summoned his crystal ball from his workspace. It was, perhaps, time to make that deal with Regina. But he didn't walk into potential deals without the necessary knowledge to complete them.

"Show me what I need to know," he ordered, changing out his shirt.

What he needed to know was apparently a series of images. Regina had joined the hunt for Snow White, just as she'd sworn she would, that was no surprise to him. What was surprising to him was the violence. He watched Regina, but he hadn't been keeping a close enough eye on her. In his ball, he saw homes set to fire by her faceless guards while she watched in the distance. He saw men taken away from their families as women and children cried in the distance. He saw Regina search home after home after home, barns, shops, taverns, nothing was exempt from her gaze when it came to Snow White. He saw death at her hands. An entire town murdered at her orders. And all along he could see in the ball what she could not…Snow White in the forest, running to safety yet again.

He had mixed feelings. He needed that death and destruction, he knew that. He needed her to become the Evil Queen the Seer told him she was bound to become in order to enact his curse. But so much death and destruction…he hadn't been prepared for that. Her obsession was becoming unquenchable. He knew what had to be done to stop it. Either bring about Snow White's death, change the future, and cut himself off from Bae forever. Or stir the future forward.

Yes, now was the time to bring about that deal.

He waited for her in her room, a place he hadn't been since before the King had died. The genie was here, somewhere, there was no doubt about that. He knew that the creature had been cursed inside of a mirror, how he haunted Regina and helped her, it was one of the reasons that he continued to keep the mirror that connected him to her covered all the time now. Before he'd always known Regina couldn't be there all the time to watch him, now she had a little spy built-in for her. Potentially. Which was why he began to look about for the creature. If he could see him, study him for himself, he might be able to make a potion that could shut him out of his castle while still keeping the mirror connection intact.

But where was he?! The crystal ball by her couch seemed like a good place to start, after all his crystal was one of the most powerful objects he'd ever claimed. Not as powerful as a fairy wand, of course, but certainly powerful enough.

And yet Regina's was useless. The second he sat down and picked it up, he could tell that there was no magic within it. It was simply ordinary decoration, he didn't need daylight to see that.

"Where else could you be…" he growled looking around.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" he heard Regina cry out as she came striding into her dressing room, clearly upset that he'd ignored her call for so long.

"Well, it seems you've taken to power quite well," he muttered from his spot on the couch. "Gives your cheeks a nice rosy color."

"I don't understand them!" she yelled, moving closer. "I offer these peasants a fortune, and they still protect Snow White! Why are they loyal to her and not me? I am their Queen!"

He nodded and set the ball aside so he could face her, and also sweep the room for other hiding places. "You did just slaughter an entire village. Maybe that's why they call you the 'Evil Queen'!" he joked, thinking back to the Seer's name for her. Maybe it was time she embraced that title. It would certainly move things forward where he was concerned.

"I am not evil," she sneered. He nodded, but what he really wanted to do was roll his eyes as he walked away from her. He'd expected her to say something like that, of course, the worst of the worst always did. It was the one thing that still brought him hope. He was a monster, but he knew he was. Regina was becoming an evil wretch and still in denial. It was why she'd taken more offense to being called "evil" just now, instead of defending her actions against the towns she'd destroyed. "They call me that because of her! She's the evil one!"

Oh, so they were already calling her the Evil Queen! What a joyous occasion! The Seer had been right again, and he couldn't wait to move forward and see her come face to face with the Swan!

"They're her people, dearie!" he cried over his shoulder as he moved away. Her vanity mirror-where better to keep a genie? "You're gonna have to be content with the fear. They'll never love you."

"Yes, they will," she insisted almost dreamily. He moved to her vanity but saw nothing in that mirror, either. Instead, he leaned over her dressing table to smell the fresh flowers there that were cut so that she wouldn't guess that he was searching for her mirror friend. Flowers would look lovely in the foyer. Perhaps he could take some, and that might give his little maid an idea…not to mention something to do. He'd hate to see what idle hands on her would do when there wasn't a prisoner he needed her to interrogate. "When she is gone, when Snow is dead, then they will see my kindness."

"Through the charred remains of their homes. I'm sure that will be perfectly clear," he stated, moving about again. Where else could the creature be? If he could just sense his energy, understand how it worked, he might be able to come up with something!

"Well, in time, it will be. Her death will allow it. And I'm going to find her. Apparently, I have to do it myself."

He picked up a small handheld mirror that she kept on her vanity and sat in the chair with it. A mirror by a mirror, how odd unless one of them revealed a genie. Nothing! Though he could feel the same kind of magic he felt at the vanity, he saw nothing. He tapped it a few times as she spoke, but no genie appeared.

"Well, in that outfit, finding her should be easy," he joked, tapping again. Perhaps genie magic would always baffle him. It wasn't like him to give up, but he had a prisoner to question, and the blanket over the mirror would keep the magical man's prying eyes out of his home. He had to have his priorities.

"Teach me my mother's shape-shifting spell!" Regina gasped, suddenly excited. "Allow me to hide."

He resisted his urge to laugh, one had to remain calm and in control when making a deal, after all. Besides, while he was desperate to make the deal, it had to be for the right thing. He wanted it done now, and learning that spell was not something that could happen overnight. Regina needed something to work a bit quicker than the months it would take. Or rather, someone.

"It took your mother months to learn that. You? Well, in a week, you'll be able to, uh, change your hair? Highlights? Maybe."

Now it was Regina who angrily rolled her eyes and turned away from him, mad and upset…until the thought he wanted finally came to her, and she spun herself around.

"If I can't do the spell, you can!" she realized, coming closer. "Put it on me!"

Now…there was a request he would work a deal with.

"If I do, you won't control it," he warned, setting the mirror aside and rising once more. He'd have to investigate the genie later. "And you won't have any magic while the spell is working."

"I won't need magic," she insisted in a low and crazed tone. "Just as long as I can get close enough to snap her neck with my bare hands." Her jaw was set, her teeth were clenched, and in her eyes he saw the kind of blackness he needed for her to cast his curse. It was a risk, he supposed, letting her go out there to hunt the Princess that he needed alive. But the Seer hadn't been wrong yet. If this was to be, he had to assume that there was a lesson to be learned by Regina, a deal to be made for him, and life to give to Snow White and her future False Prince.

"I can see you're determined. And when the deed is done, call upon me," he instructed as she stood a distance away and prepared herself. "Only I can return you to your regal self."

"Hold on!" she burst out suddenly as he began to pull magic into him. He stopped and looked her over as her own eyes squinted suspiciously at him. "What's the price?"

"Boring matter of state," he smiled. "I need you to cut off all trade with King George's realm."

"King George? Why?"

"I need him to be bankrupt! What's it to you?!"

"Fine. Fine!" she cried, ending their spat. Why she suddenly cared about his affairs was beyond him. He was pleased to see her finally shaking her body in preparation, as if she were about to run a race instead of just have a spell placed on her. His business was his business. "Just do it. Time is of the essence."

He summoned his magic back into him again and began to pull an image into his head, an image of opposites. Instead of smooth well-done hair, he imagined the hair of a peasant, uncombed and unkempt. Instead of tall, he pictured short. He imagined weathered hands and skin in place of younger skin that had never worked a day in their life. He changed the color of her eyes, the shape of her nose, the subtly of her smile, even altered those cheekbones of hers. The final touch was what she wore. The regal clothes of a queen were too much for what he was trying to accomplish. Rags. He summoned them forth. Clothes made from poor quality wool that had been spun by a talentless hack, weaved together by someone just desperate to make copper. Then he released the image along with his magic. And when the smoke cleared, the woman he'd created in his mind's eye stood before him; rags and all. He let out a laugh. That had been even better than he imaged!

Regina, quite obviously, disagreed. Her smile instantly fell.

"I don't feel any different…" she looked herself up and down but immediately gravitated to what she was wearing. Naturally. He doubted she'd ever worn anything as poor as this in her entire spoiled life. Her dear mother would have a heart attack at the very thought. "Other than these ghastly rags…"

He wanted to jump up and down and clap his hands with happiness. "Ghastly rags." That was exactly what he'd been aiming for! He pointed toward her genieless vanity and escorted her to where she could see herself.

"This is what the world will see." Regina gasped as she looked in the mirror and saw the image he'd conjured in his head for her.

"Excellent!" she smiled turning this way and that. "I'm about as regal as a potato…"

If only she knew his origins, if only she'd seen her own mother once upon a time, she might look down a little less at the peasants around her. Which reminded him…

"Careful, dearie," he warned, biting his tongue. "A Queen strutting amongst peasants might not like what she hears."

Powerful as she was, she was also sheltered. Cora had seen to that and now he'd seen to it in her later years. She'd never not lived in a palace, and while the simple girl who'd wanted so desperately to run away a decade ago would have probably done well on her own, now Regina was a different person than she'd been. Now she was a queen, one who knew magic and had a fire in her heart for death. He knew she wasn't prepared for what awaited her out there. In the end, he hoped he could use it to his advantage.

"Won't matter," she laughed, wrapping a thin shawl around her. "When I'm done, they'll be singing my praises over her smoldering, villainous remains."

"If you say so," he muttered over her shoulder and into her ear. "Now…our deal…" he summoned into his hand a perfectly drafted royal decree, one that would bring an immediate halt to all trade with King George's land and force him to look elsewhere for allies, like King Midas' Kingdom perhaps where he knew there was so much more to trade than goods.

"Yes, yes," she took a quill that he offered and signed her name to it, not bothering to question how he'd already made sure her wax seal was on it perfectly. "I'll send it along-"

"Oh, don't worry about such things!" he scoffed, rolling it up and sending it to Theseus' Palace for Pirithous to find. "I've a little bird who can do the pesky paperwork for us."

"Fortunately, so do I…"

Ah yes…her black bird messengers…that annoying little habit she'd picked up from Maleficent. He watched as she waved her hand, probably attempting to summon one, but he smiled when he felt no flare of magic and she appeared confused. Had she forgotten already? This was going to be quite an interesting adventure for her.

"Don't forget, dearie! No magic!" he reminded her. "I'll take care of the paperwork. You just worry about your hunt…good luck!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I placed this scene from 2x20 here because while we don't have a specific time for that episode, it works really well here for a number of reasons. As far as Rumple goes, it gets him out of the castle long enough for Belle to go and free Robin Hood. And it keeps him distracted. There are things he does to give people the opportunity to do what he wants, but because Rumple is so angry with Belle when he discovers Robin is free it seems pretty clear to me that this isn't one of those times. He's genuinely shocked to find Robin gone. And being out with Regina, in my opinion, gives the opportunity for that to happen so that he really doesn't notice anything is off. Also...it fits well here because it gives an excuse for what Rumple might have been doing during Regina's time out. 2x20 was a Regina-centric. There are times she's shown calling for Rumple and he doesn't answer. She's hurt, without magic she'd be forced to walk all the way to his castle to get the spell reversed. Having 2x19 and 2x20 run parallel allows us to say "oh, he's not coming because he's busy hunting Robin. That's very "in character" for Rumple. He's got what he wants so he's going to focus on himself first and all others second.
> 
> Big thank you going out to RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Though it's not really a Rumple/Belle chapter, I see this chapter as still sort of a Rumbelle chapter mostly because of the beginning. I had a lot of fun writing that. I like being able to bring him to the conclusion that there have been a lot of strong women in his life and a lot of them had used that strength for bad, but Belle is different. It was one of those times where jumping into his head made me laugh because once again it is just so freaking obvious from his thoughts what he thinks about her. He outright states that he has an attraction to strong women, then admits that Belle is a strong woman. He is essentially confessing to himself that he is attracted to her but he still doesn't really seem to perceive what that means and for me...it's just so classically Rumple it's funny. Peace and Happy Reading!


	107. Teaching A Lesson

When he arrived home the sun was down, and while he could have gone to see his prisoners, he'd instead chosen to keep them at bay and give them until morning to face him. When he woke the next morning, he expected to find Belle in a state, angry just like he'd left her, especially since he chose to wear one of the leather aprons she'd cleaned for him while he'd been away.

What he didn't expect was to find her sitting on that damn couch of hers perfectly calm reading a book she must have found somewhere-instead of doing her chores. It appeared a night away hadn't given her fear at all, only made her lazy. If he wasn't so eager to get back down to his other prisoner he would have made a comment about it. Instead, he found the tools on the table that she'd dutifully cleaned for him. She was unreadable as he took note of them, picking out which one he wanted to use and then questioning whether he wanted to actually use it or if he only wanted to make her think he was using it. Had she talked to the prisoner? It was one of the bad things about going away while he wanted her to do something. He couldn't very well watch her while he conducted his business now, could he? And he could have used the crystal when he'd returned, to see if he saw anything, but he hadn't had the patience.

"Well, I shouldn't be too loud," he commented aloud for her to hear. Still, not a bit of reaction from her. She was an odd one. "Can't promise the same courtesy from our prisoner."

He shook his head at her the second he was out of the room. She provided nothing for him. No reaction to his comments, no opportunity for him to quiz her about what she might have talked to their prisoner about, no words for him to comment on her reading habit instead of her dusting skills. It was unnerving. Later, once the sun had gone down and he'd eaten, perhaps then he would allow himself to question her, or to use the crystal and see what had become of their conversation, but for now he preferred to question a much more vulnerable…

Target?

At first, he thought he was in the wrong place. It was the reasonable, rational explanation for what he saw before him. These walls did look similar, and even when he'd been human he'd had moments where he'd gone into a room and completely forgot why. Perhaps this was like that. Perhaps on his way down he'd been so caught up in thinking about the maid that he'd taken a wrong turn and gone to the wrong dungeon.

He held his breath, backed out of the little room he was in, studied the castle around him, and quickly concluded that was not the case. He'd come to the right place. This was the cell he'd been holding his prisoner in. It was. But now it was empty. It took him all of one second to review his conversation with Regina and recall no hints that anyone had come onto his property to steal him away which left him only once explanation as to who could have freed the bastard. It had to be someone inside the castle already. And since it's only two residents were himself and the girl, and he'd been away…

He was going to kill her.

"Belle!" he roared, throwing the knife to the ground and dashing back up the stairs. Damn a woman's bleeding heart! Damn him for not locking her up before he'd gone! Damn him for trusting her alone with him and not fucking locking him in so that all it took was a woman with a soft heart to free him!

And more? All it took was a glance around the room to know that there was something else that was not where he'd left it.

The wand was gone. Oh, where was his wand?!

He had one very good guess.

"Where is he?" he growled upon seeing her again.

She barely even blinked at his anger.

"Gone. I let him go."

"What?" he roared back, hoping that she could feel his breath in her face. He couldn't help it. He wanted her to feel what he felt! He wanted her to feel uncomfortable; to feel his anger, to feel ashamed!

But instead she just sat right where she'd been when he left her on that couch with a book in her hand, perfectly calm and guilty as sin. She hadn't even tried to lie about letting him go! She'd just stated it as though it was a fact! But his wand!

Stupid girl! She'd let the thief go and hadn't thought to accompany him out so he didn't get what he wanted! Unless, of course, she'd given it to him. May the gods have mercy on her soul if he determined that was the case!

"He was a thief!"

"Which doesn't give you the right to kill him," she responded so calmly it was irritating.

"It gives me every right!" he screamed at her tossing his arms about because if he didn't give them something to do he was going to wave them and send her far away from this place where he didn't have to deal with her ever again! Damned whatever future the Seer saw of her, damn whatever purpose she was supposed to serve, she'd just cost him dearly. At the moment, he had to admit, he was far more tempted than he ever had been to go against that damn Seer and just do what needed to be done!

"Oh, let me guess. You think he's a hero! Stealing from me for some noble cause! You read too many books, dearie!"

She didn't respond, not with fear, not with regret, not with anything! She just continued to calmly sit there as he raged, as he shook with anger! She felt justified, the stupid girl! Oh, she'd see just how justified she was when he was done with her!

And yet, as his fingers tingled to do something magically, do anything to her…he couldn't come up with a single thing. No image crossed his mind, no torture, no punishment, nothing! Except…

"There!" he finally screamed. He used his magic to transport that book in her hands up to his tower, where it would remain locked away. "Maybe that will stop poisoning your head with poisonous thoughts!"

But even as he screamed at her in triumph, he felt no ease from what he'd done. In fact, he felt the Dark Ones laughing at him. He had no ideas, but they had them by the dozens. He could have tied her up, one said. He could have killed her, another sneered. He could have sent her away or strung her up like the thief before her and made her feel the true meaning of pain, Nimue insisted. But instead, he'd taken her book away like he took away Bae's toys when he'd thrown tantrums as a toddler. He was still angry, but he felt suddenly soft. What was wrong with him?

And what was wrong with her? What was her problem that she felt she had the ability to release his prisoners at her own will! She was a servant! She was the price of a deal and a piece of the future, just as Regina was. Since when did he allow them to walk all over him or control his life? What gave her the right? What gave her the courage to do such a thing?!

Why was he letting her? Just because she was pretty?! Foolish stubborn girl!

"I didn't free him because of what I read in my books," she added calmly as ever once more. "I saw good in him. That man only wanted to escape with his life."

Oh, perhaps that was the problem. Perhaps she didn't see, maybe she didn't know just how wrong she was! He was almost excited to bring those girlish fantasies about good knights and evil villains crashing down before her!

"Oh, was that what you thought? Well, he escaped with more than his life!" he shouted, pointing to the now empty pedestal that had once held the wand.

His eyes stayed trained on her as her own eyes moved to look and for the first time since they'd begun to argue he saw what he wanted. She went pale, a magnificent feat considering the color of her skin! But he watched as she turned from her normal cream color to a panicked gray and he finally saw that courageous façade she'd put on melt away as she rose to inspect the pedestal beside him. At least he knew that she hadn't had a hand in helping him to steal it, at least not directly. But that didn't make the situation any better.

"You were tricked! Foolish, gullible girl!"

"Th-there must be an explanation!" she stuttered suddenly breathless. Now she was afraid. It was about fucking time! "We-we don't know why he needed that wand!"

So they hadn't discussed that little piece of information in their conversations. It was easy enough to deduce what the explanation must have been considering what he'd taken! Starry-eyed, innocent, and stupid! The royals always were sheltered. Maybe it was time she realize just how sheltered and childish her notions were for the world around her.

"He took the wand because he wanted magic! People who steal magic never have good intentions!"

"No!" she shouted back at him. "No, you can't tell what's in a person's heart until you truly know them!"

An ignorant assumption worthy of a girl if he'd ever known one. He still wanted to send her away, to magic her to some far off place he never had to deal with her again, but suddenly he could think of a good punishment for her to endure first! He had a plan. And she was going to hate it. It was going to crush her pretty little worldview and he couldn't be more excited to do that.

"Oh, we'll see what's in his heart, alright, when I shoot an arrow straight through it! And because I am a showman…" he summoned the thief's bow and arrows from the place in the kitchen that she'd stashed them. Then, once he knew she'd made the connection, he rounded back on her. "It'll be with his bow! And because this is your fault, you get to come with me and watch and know, as the blood drips from his carcass, it'll be you and your rags to wipe it up!"

If it was possible, her skin turned even grayer than it had been before. Now he had her attention. And it was a good thing too, because this was a lesson she'd was desperately in need of instruction on!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, another one that I just don't think came out well. Hard to tell why, I think it was just that Rumple's mind, in my opinion, was going everywhere and it was hard to focus it. My apologies.
> 
> Thank you Jenigweve for your comments on the last chapter. I promise that the other chapters are better than this and it will become obvious why 2x19 required so many chapters soon enough. I wasn't pleased that it needed so many chapters, but I did agree with how I divided all the chapters up, so I can only conclude it was necessary. Peace and Happy Reading!


	108. Not According to Plan

With a snap of his fingers he covered himself in his cloak and moved toward the door. There wasn't time to waste, the thief already had enough of a head start and that man, much like his maid, had enough determination in him that he could be impossibly far by now if he really wanted to be. But he was determined to; determined to get that wand back, determined to kill the thief for good, determined to get his pretty little maid to learn her lesson so that she might think twice about defying him in the future. Using his magic, he summoned forth a carriage and a couple of horses to pull it, not unlike what he'd used to fetch the Princess. He didn't regret his decision to bring her along, but at the same time, he recognized it would probably be easier to leave her behind. For starters, he'd be able to travel by magic on his own which would be more helpful in finding the thief, but not as satisfying.

Although, if he went on his own, he wouldn't have to deal with her time-wasting!

While he'd taken to leave the castle at a quick pace, she'd fallen behind, dragging her feet like it would save her friend. Unlikely.

He reached forward, pulled the door of the carriage open, and made a motion for her to get in. Instead, she just stood there at the threshold of his castle. She crossed her arms over herself and looked with her wide eyes at the carriage and then the property around her. It was as if she expected the thief to be hiding in the front lawn.

"Come dearie!" he shrieked, drawing her gaze back to him. "You've given the thief enough of a head start already."

He hadn't known it was possible, but her gaze narrowed in his direction. He nearly shivered as he felt her anger wash over him. He'd had to become the Dark One to master a look like that, but in his experience women appeared to have that gaze built in. Still, angry stare aside, she stood up tall and let out a huff as she made her way down to him.

"You do know this is madness, don't you?" she growled at him, refusing the helping hand he offered and choosing to climb up inside on her own.

He used his magic to be sure that the front door closed and locked, they couldn't have another thief getting in, then turned to get in opposite her.

"You'd be surprised how often justice is mistaken for madness," he commented as he closed the door and settled in.

"Or madness for justice."

He tried not to roll his eyes at the Princess. Trained to be a Queen and negotiate trade deals, wars, and diplomacy…sometimes it showed. And he would have none of it.

"Make yourself comfortable, dearie, we've got a long journey ahead of us."

And then he shut her out. He closed his eyes as the horses began to pull them and focused on the sway of the carriage, the clip-clop of hooves, the breeze that came in and out of the carriage. He tried to engage the Seer, tried to get a hint from her about where the man was going or where they would meet. Only one face came to mind. It was the Sheriff from Nottingham, the one he'd seen taunting Robin Hood in his vision. Nottingham. He was going to make it that far? That was days away how was he going to-

"Easy to say when you at least have the courtesy of a jacket."

Her words were muttered, spoken so softly he knew that she thought he couldn't hear them. But he did. He opened his eyes and could tell that she was surprised just by the breath she drew and the way she straightened her shoulders. Bare shoulders. There was a breeze coming through the carriage, to him it was nice, but she was right, he was wearing a cloak. And he was the Dark One! He used magic constantly to help his body temperature, to warm him when he was cold and chill him when he was hot. She didn't have those considerations. He wasn't about to loan her his magic, he wasn't even sure how he would manage something like that. But the girl hadn't changed dresses since she'd come to live with him. She still wore an off the shoulder dress that exposed her chest and shoulders and arms to the elements. She wouldn't freeze in what she was wearing, especially once they were off the mountain, but he also wasn't about to deal with her muttering complaints every five minutes or constantly rubbing her arms when he was trying to concentrate. This was a simple problem with a simple solution. And, now that he thought about it, it might come in handy.

"That is an excellent point!" he stated. With a whirl of his hand, he summoned forth a long thick cloak and some warm leather gloves to cover her. When the smoke cleared and he saw her, he hated himself for not thinking of doing it sooner. Now her chest wasn't staring so tauntingly at him.

She gasped and looked herself over with shock, but he could almost immediately see her body shudder in relief from the cold. He could see how conflicted the poor girl was. She wanted so badly to come up with some kind of snappy retort. But she was comfortable, his magic had made her warm. And she was so soft that he knew she couldn't be upset with him for it if she tried.

"Thank you," she muttered in a huff, sitting back in her seat and looking out the window. Ah yes, it was hard to think of a person as a beast when they did something so kind. But just how kind was it?

"Oh, don't thank me quite yet, dearie," he added quickly. "The fastener on your cloak is as much for me as it is for you." Her hands suddenly smoothed down over the material on front as her eyes gazed down at the fastener he'd mentioned. Why she was looking was silly, of course. What made it so special wasn't written on it. The magic was deeper. "That fastener has a tracking spell on it, dearie. Try to run away on our little outing, and I will always know where to find you!"

Just as her brow furrowed and her jaw dropped open, and he expected her to complain, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the seat as he focused once more on the Seer. But once more the only face that came to mind was the Sheriff of Nottingham dressed in black and surrounded by green. And a feeling from the Seer. Intense hate? Anger? What was that supposed to mean? He had no quarrel with the Sheriff. He took a breath, cleared his mind, tried to picture the thief once more, and suddenly the vision that he'd been provoking came through. But it wasn't what he thought it would be.

_A cane coming down on the Sheriff dressed in odd clothes on a strange black road with white lines. He was cowing beside something metallic he'd never seen before._

_"A car," the Seer whispered._

He was confused. He needed information on the thief, why was the Sheriff what the Seer showed him?

Why couldn't he get a vision of the thief? He didn't give up easily, not by any stretch of the imagination. He tried. And tried and tried and tried. For what felt like hours he tried to get a vision of the man…but couldn't. He wanted his crystal ball. He wanted a hint other than Nottingham so he didn't have to go so far! Nottingham was nearly as far as Regina's Kingdom. It would take them days to get there. Days in this carriage alone with Belle. But summoning that crystal ball and giving her a hint about such a precious valuable he had in his possession…how was it that he'd gone so long doing things so well and now that she was around he'd never had so many regrets in his life?! Perhaps getting rid of her after all this was the best thing he could do. But until then, she could do her best to do her part.

"He's difficult to find," he muttered a few hours later, finally opening his eyes. "The wand could be doing that." Perhaps that was why it was so difficult. Perhaps the wand was protecting itself from him. There was something that could potentially help him break through that magic.

"Then maybe we shouldn't bother to go after him," she responded with her eyebrows up expectantly. Spoiled girl.

"Not necessary," he smiled back. "Finding him just requires a bit more information…from you!" he pointed with a high laugh that made her squirm a bit.

"Me?"

"You had a conversation with him," he stated with a grin even as he watched her own face fall. She knew what he was talking about. He could tell that just by the look on her face. How nice it was to finally have the truth all out in the open between the two of them!

"You knew?!" she muttered with shock and disgust.

"Well, of course, I knew!" he blanched. "It is _my_ castle! Nothing happens in it without my knowledge!" he bluffed. It had been a complete accident that he'd heard the pair of them talking. But she didn't need to know that. She needed to think that he was watching her constantly. Perhaps that would curb her behavior, even if she was sent away when they returned. "Now…" he sat forward and waved her to come closer, a request she did not abide by. "Tell me the name of the thief."

Something was wrong. The moment that he'd made his request, her face began to morph and change from disgust and indignity, to happiness. A grin was slow to spread over her face as she relaxed. She leaned forward, just as he'd initially wanted her to.

"He didn't give me one," she stated clearly before sitting back in her seat with a proud smile like she'd just beaten him in a game.

He hadn't felt his stomach turn over at a piece of news in a long time. But it did now. For a moment, he just sat there. Anger rolled through him, paralyzing his muscles, forcing him to clench his jaw together painfully. She hadn't known his name, and yet she'd let him go?!

"That's a lie," he hissed through a clenched jaw, though he could see the truth of it in her eyes. How could she be so stupid?! How could he have been so stupid?

"It's not," she answered with her haughty smile in place.

"It can't be," he argued. "You spoke-"

"As he ate dinner, yes, we spoke," she inserted quickly. "But he told me nothing of importance. No name, no home, no reason for wanting your wand." Lies! All of it! How could she not ask or be just as curious as he was?! "It's not a lie!" she spat out as he opened his mouth again.

It wasn't a lie. He wanted her to be lying to him so badly. But he knew that it wasn't. She hadn't gotten anything. No important information whatsoever. No name, no place of origin, no motive! And she'd just…let him go?! What the hell was wrong with her? How could she be so smart, so well educated, and yet so stupid?!

He sat back in his seat and tried to calm down. He could feel magic spark between his fingers. He wanted to destroy something. He wanted the satisfaction of watching something whole splinter and break in a powerful explosion that would shake her to the core and make her see his anger and her stupidity all at once. He wanted to watch her shiver and grow fearful and wipe that arrogant, conceited smile off her pretty face! He wanted these days to Nottingham to feel just as long for her as they were going to feel for him.

"Is-is that why you brought me with you?" she asked with a curious gleam in her eye. "Because you thought I'd help you catch him after I'd set him free?"

"You are here because you set him free!" he shouted at her. He felt his knuckles pop as his hand made a fist. The last person in the world he wanted to speak with right now was his maid. "Of course, I'd hoped you'd learned something useful…but it's no matter. A name is something easy enough to collect-if I need it. For now…I can track the wand's magic, that should lead us straight to the thief."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you cared more for the thief than getting your wand back," she stated. He ignored her and instead turned to look out the window and imagined each tree they passed exploding just as he'd wanted it to.

When they got back, he was definitely going to get rid of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is why I had to spend an entire chapter just having Rumple overhear Belle's conversation with Robin. Actually this is why I spent an entire chapter having him overhear only part of Belle's conversation with Robin. This is a chapter that appears in Moments and because Moments and Chronicles are meant to complement each other it had to show up just so that this scene should show up. Honestly, this is just one more reason I waited until the series was over to write Rumple's side of the story, because keeping track of all this after it was over was crazy all on its own. I can't imagine doing this while the series was still in progress.
> 
> I know everything in this section is sort of shorter but I'm hoping that what needs to be conveyed in each chapter comes through. This one is about average, but it also had the job of answering the question of "why couldn't Rumple find the wand". Because frankly, the weirdest thing about this episode was that all-powerful Rumple couldn't just poof himself to where the thief was. Or...like he does the the Gauntlet later, he doesn't just poof the wand back to him. So I decided to use a bunch of reasons all rolled into one. The Seer won't give him a vision, the power of the wand is not letting him keep track of it, fairy magic doesn't mix well with his magic, he hadn't been able to detect Robin on his grounds, and then, of course, we don't know that the spell that cloaks Robin doesn't have its own magic that might keep him from it. So, it was complicated but I'm confident I threw enough possibilities in there that I made it work. (And of course, in a later chapter, I'll be explaining why Rumple was able to so easily get the Gauntlet back too.) Peace and Happy Reading!


	109. A Clever Guess

He was definitely going to get rid of her when they returned to the castle. The question was how.

Of course, even as he considered such a thing, the Seer rebelled against it, stressing that the girl was important to the future. She was exactly where she needed to be, the Seer hissed every time he imaged something new to do with her.

He didn't care. All it really meant to him was that he'd need to send her somewhere that he could have access to her. Or even somewhere that would be helpful. Perhaps he could make her a maid in King George's castle. He didn't like the idea of sending her to Regina, that gave her too much power. And he couldn't set her free because he was certain that she'd make her way back to her father and he wanted never to deal with that man again. Helpful or annoying, he had let his child go with barely a thought or argument. He didn't want him to align himself with such a being. Of course, the simplest of things to do would be just to jail her, but he found himself rejecting that idea. He didn't need her to be happy wherever she was, but he didn't want her discontent either. She liked books, perhaps there was some library that needed a maid, and she'd never even know that he'd placed her in such a wordy cage. Ironic since he felt like the pair of them were living in a wordless cage at the moment.

They were traveling faster than normal, but then so was the thief. He'd had the idea to track the wand's magic, but he continued to get readings from it only in varying degrees. Sometimes it moved quickly, other times it stopped entirely, sometimes it disappeared completely and reappeared in a place he didn't understand. The thief must have been using it. That was the only explanation for how quickly he was moving. It should have taken him a week to get to Nottingham. Instead, it had taken a matter of days and what days those had been for him and Belle. He wouldn't admit it, but he did regret taking the girl with him.

He didn't need anything more than his curse and magic, but she was more demanding. In her own defense she had made it a lot longer than he would have thought she would without eating, but eventually he'd barely been able to hear himself think over her stomach growling. He'd bought her food, water, had to stop several times a day for her to relieve her bladder behind a tree, though she never complained. She slept. That was perhaps the thing that surprised him the most. As darkness had come over them that first day she'd taken advantage of the seat she'd had, laid out upon it, and closed her eyes. He was almost certain she wouldn't actually go to sleep, but a few minutes later it was hard to deny that she was asleep. Her breath came out even and deep, and her eyes began to shift behind her lids.

He was jealous of her, of that ability to just fall asleep and let the mind drift away. He could do it as the Dark One, but he could count on one hand the number of times it had actually happened. Usually his mind was too filled with thoughts and ideas that didn't allow him that peace. And there were more than a few times that he'd closed his eyes to try and attempt to sleep and found the voices in his head grew, keeping him up. When he'd had Baelfire he'd been so new to this curse that he hadn't thought to miss sleep. Watching her now brought that jealous side out of him. It was one more reason he couldn't wait to get far away from her. He just wished he could decide what to do with her when all was said and done.

Not Regina's staff. There were several other royal families he could hand her over to, but if they knew who she was it might be counter-productive as they might attempt to return her to her father. He wondered if Jefferson needed a maid, or a nanny. He could pay for all her expenses…no, not after the last conversation they'd had ended the way it ended. Besides, Jefferson had proved himself weak enough to fall in love once, he could all too easily see it happening again with this little ball of mischief. Perhaps that library idea hadn't been so bad? Did the village have one? He'd never thought to check before. Hell, if it was the best option, he could build one himself! At least at the village he could keep track of her. And if she took the clasp on her cloak…

A summons interrupted his train of thought. Regina was calling him, summoning him to her side, probably to undo the spell he'd put on her, but he didn't dare move and leave the girl alone even with that clasp on. Regina would have to wait. She knew where to find him after all this was done.

His mind was wandering again as she sat opposite him for another day. He couldn't even remember how many they'd been together at this point. All he knew was that it had been a longer journey than he'd expected when he first departed with her. She was annoying when she was talking but just as annoying when she was silent. He could practically hear her yelling at him even when she didn't say a word and just left him to his magic.

Magic…as if that was helpful at the moment. He'd managed to track the wands magic over these last few days, but it was always erratic. He had the oddest feeling that the thief actually did know how to work the wand and was using it to his advantage, though, not very well. One thing was certain, he wasn't getting any better at using it over these days. At the moment, he could hardly track the magic. He got readings from this way and that. Though he sensed they were finally getting closer, there was no one direction that called to him. What was going on?

 _Help will be given to those who ask,_ the Seer whispered in his head. She could be nearly as annoying as the girl sometimes. Over the years, he thought he'd done a good job getting a handle on her riddles, but this was one that didn't make sense. Help…from who?! The trees? The horses? The carriage? Certainly, not the girl! She hadn't exactly been helpful the last time he'd asked her for help.

_Help will be given to those who ask._

He sneered at her goading voice. Fine. But he was going to regret it. He didn't need the Seer to tell him that future.

"I'm losing track of him," he stated casually. "This forest is too thick!"

"Maybe we should return home," she suggested with sickening sweetness and feigned innocence. They'd had little conversation over these last few days, mostly because when they did, she continued to circle around to this suggestion. Had she not learned anything yet?

"What? And let the thief escape?" he questioned. "What would people think if I spared the life of someone who stole from me?"

"That there's actually a man hiding behind the beast," she argued, sitting forward.

He could have laughed. Women and their girlish fantasies! It was Zelena and that other maid all over again!

"There isn't!"

"Then why didn't you kill me when I freed the prisoner?"

"Ah…well I would have, but ah…good help these days is really hard to find!"

In the back of his head, a voice laughed at him and said something about his witty response saving the day. He ignored that voice, but only because he was suddenly caught up in his own thoughts.

Why hadn't he killed her? It was a fair question, one he hadn't considered until now. He'd certainly been angry enough to kill her, and he knew that he'd killed people for less. Why hadn't he thought to kill her? Well, there was the fact that she was going to be important in some unknown way that was stopping him…but even as he had the thought he knew this was something different. Why hadn't he killed her?

Revenge.

That was it. He was a vengeful person just as he was a murderous "beast" as she had called him. If he'd killed her then and there, it wouldn't have been half as entertaining as watching her suffer. Admittedly she didn't seem to be doing a lot of that at the moment, but she would. It would be satisfying then. At least that was what he told himself.

He shook the thought away as he suddenly heard horses in the distance probably along this very road. Horses but no hooves. Someone who was stopped. Perhaps they were who the Seer had wanted him to ask for help. Her timing could have been better.

"I think that you are not as dark as you want people to believe," she proclaimed unexpectedly. "I think that deep down, there's love in your heart and for something more than power."

He stared back at her. So this was it, was it? He was the ultimate dealmaker, and there was no mistake that what she was attempting to do was to make a deal with him. Not in anyway that mattered. Not one item for another or a service for another service. No, she was attempting to make a deal of emotions. If he turned back, then what he'd gain was the ability to "feel good" about himself. And to do it, she was attempting to appeal to his better side. The side that she was probably only betting on but did actually exist because deep down what he loved more than anything in the world was his son. But she didn't know that. And she didn't need to. Had she guessed or just gotten lucky? He didn't care. He wanted her hopes and dreams crushed.

He leaned forward slightly, meeting her there in the middle. "You're right. There is something I love…" Her eyes widened as she moved to sit closer, coming in to hear what she thought must have been a secret confession. "My things!" he shrieked, making her jump as he backed into his seat.

The horse's neigh was getting louder. They were coming up on the travelers.

Belle's expression shouted just as loudly at him now, her nostrils flared with anger as she sat back and narrowed her gaze.

"You really are as dark as people say," she scoffed at him.

He smirked. She'd merely had an unlucky guess then. His secrets were still safe. He'd like to keep it that way.

"Oh, darker, dearie!" he whispered as he sent a magical signal to the horses to stop. "Much darker!"

With the carriage stopped, he led the way and stepped out first, taking the bow with him. Thieves made names for themselves; perhaps the travelers would be able to tell him the thief's name or give him a list of who in the area was a threat.

His blood ran cold.

As he rushed Belle along, he took a glance at the men and realized he recognized one of them.

It was none other than the Sheriff of Nottingham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally wanted to put this chapter with the last one since both conversations were short, but I found that it was better to separate the pair of them. It made the story better, at least in my opinion. I hope you'll share it.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the last chapter. These chapters are fun, aren't they? I was able to load them up with tons of foreshadowing and in a lot of Rumple's commentary, there's just a lot of fun little gems for those of us who know what is coming. "I'm Rumple and I want to send Belle away! But I don't want her to be sad, or go back to her father, or have to work too hard..." Come on, Rumple. Clear as day! And personally I think the next chapter will make it even better. Peace and Happy Reading!


	110. A Different Kind of Deal

Sheriff of Nottingham. Dammit. The Seer always delivered. Sometimes he just didn't understand how she delivered until it was right upon him.

There the Sheriff sat, mounted upon his steed as a few other men of the King's guard collected what appeared to be paupers and threw them into the back of a jailhouse wagon. What he knew about the Sheriff was little, he'd only ever seen him in that one vision he'd had of Robin and the one he'd had only a few days ago of beating the gentleman over something that had made him angry enough to kill. But this certainly wasn't that moment. The setting was all wrong, and, if the clothing and metallic "cars" told him anything, he was fairly certain it was bound to happen after the Curse was cast. And yet he had a bad feeling about the Sheriff now. Was it simply a bias the vision had caused in him that formed this dislike he felt as they walked closer and the Sheriff dismounted? Or was it more? He wasn't particularly fond of military men, much less ones that drank as much as he did. He was drunk. He had to be. He'd seen him pull a flask from his saddle a bit ago, but that had merely been a sip. One didn't come to smell the way he did, or act the way he did, from merely a "sip". If he had to wager a bet, he'd guess the flask was nearly empty. He staggered over to the pair of them sniffling in the chilly air with bloodshot eyes that had nothing to do with the cold. He did feel angry at him. No, he didn't like him. But it wasn't enough to want him dead. What was it that would make him despise him so, or want to kill him one day? Something about this incident? He didn't understand, if the Seer's voice was to be believed, then the Sheriff was about to be of some use…

"What are you doing in my woods?!" he called out to them strutting about like some kind of peacock. As if he had something to display…

"Pardon the intrusion Sheriff, ahem…" he cleared his throat, his voice automatically taking on an accent from a previous Dark One who had lived here once upon a time. He stooped his shoulders, hunched his back, and avoided the larger man's eyes, pretending to be far more humble and less intimidating than he actually was. The Sheriff wanted to strut? Fine. He could let him strut so long as it got him answers. "I'm looking for a thief. He attacked me with this bow," he explained pointed at the object which the Sheriff immediately set to inspecting. "I chased him as far as these woods, and then he vanished."

"Yes, I know exactly who you're after, but I also know who you are…Rumpelstiltskin."

Well, if that was the case…

"My reputation precedes me! Excellent!" he stated, standing up tall and dropping the former Dark One's voice for his own. If he already knew who he was there was no point in hiding.

"Yes, as does your penchant…for making deals!"

Now…that he didn't like. It was hard to pinpoint what he didn't like the most. Was it the way that he'd said that, his patronizing tone of voice? Was it the way he mocked him by giving his hands a little flourish like one that he had mastered hundreds of years ago? Or was it his face? That stupid sneer and dark, entertained gleam in his eyes?

Maybe it was all of it.

But did he not like it enough to kill him?

What did it matter to him so long as he got what he wanted in the end? And if the Sheriff needed a little something for the information he had, and he could make a deal from it, then he was always willing to do business; especially when it allowed him to teach a lesson.

"I'll tell you where you can find your thief, if you give me something in return," he clarified drunkenly, as if he hadn't been entirely clear before. He took another drink from that flask of his, and then he waved him closer.

"What do you want?" he asked warmly, like a good Papa asking his boy what he might like in exchange for a pretty penny. The Sheriff would never pick up on it, but treating him like the child he was acting as was plenty entertaining for him.

Until the man's gaze drifted from him, to something over his shoulder.

"A night with your wench," he slurred, looking him in the eye.

Something…or someone?

He'd heard his fair share of unbelievable deals in the past, but this one sent him reeling. For a moment, he wondered if he'd said what he thought he'd said, if he'd heard correctly. But then his hungry, slobbering gaze drifted over his shoulder once more. He wasn't mistaken. A night with his "wench".

He was talking about Belle.

He followed his pitiful gaze over his shoulder and looked timidly for the woman. From the confidence in the Sheriff's, he half expected to find her doing something scandalous, giving him some kind of tempting look that might suggest she wanted his attention. At the same time, he knew immediately that kind of behavior was uncharacteristic for Belle.

Sure enough the moment he laid his own eyes on her he could see that she was pale; paler than usual. He could hear her heart racing as she stepped away, gaping at what she'd heard. Sheltered she might have been, but she knew what he'd been talking about. And she was in no way pleased or asking for it.

He returned his eyes back to the Sheriff and found him still staring at her, practically drooling. They'd both been looking at the same girl, the Sheriff had seen what he'd seen and yet her reaction didn't change his reaction or his desires. Vermin.

"Ah, she's not for sale," he stated quickly. His stomach was already rolling around in his belly, disgusted at the thought, he couldn't imagine what she was feeling. All he knew was that they both wanted to be away and gone from here. It wasn't safe. And suddenly he felt guilty for submitting her to such a request. This "punishment" had been a terrible mistake.

"You can't part with her for say…an hour? Twenty minutes?"

Belle's heart was racing again, he could hear that easily. Her lack of breath told him that she was far more afraid than she'd been with him and she had every right to be.

He was the Dark One, a monster. He'd killed people over stupid things, it was safe to say that his morals were not the straightest and as such there were very few crimes that set him on edge. But this was one of them. Rape, the careless abuse of a female just because they were seen as weaker, an urge to overpower in the darkest of ways; it was foul. The thought of him yanking Belle away from him and carting her off to some tavern for a night, or holding her behind a tree for an hour, even a few minutes, while she screamed and struggled beneath the pig in front of him…it was disgusting. Maybe because he'd had aunts or been married or had women who he counted as friends once upon a time, but he considered it the most unmanly thing he could think of doing. It was cowardly and degrading and suddenly he wanted to make sure that he understood that. When they'd stepped out of that carriage, he hadn't wanted to kill the Sheriff, now he wanted more. He wanted him to feel the humiliation that any woman who found themselves pinned beneath him might have felt-for Belle's sake.

"Let me think…" he joked, putting his hand to his head as if to concentrate. Instead, he called upon his magic and summoned into the palm of his hand the Sheriff's tongue.

It was a perfect punishment. Though he had so desperately wanted to steal another part of his anatomy from him, and was still considering it, his tongue would be so much more fun to watch and made better by the fact that he'd be speechless. If he was so bold as to ask him for Belle in such a way, he was willing to bet there were more women who he'd made feel speechless and powerless in his past. Now it was his turn.

He watched with joy as the Sheriff stared in fear at the black smoke that he saw, then tried to say something, or perhaps scream, and instead gagged. He tried again. His heart began to hammer against his ribs. He could smell fear on the Sheriff as he choked, sputtered and gagged, and all he could bring himself to do for several long seconds was laugh as he enjoyed every bit of it. In fact, he probably let it go on for longer than necessary though he thought that his victims, perhaps even Belle, would have disagreed. After all, he didn't see her racing to stop him. Certainly, his men could see that he was in some kind of distress, but they didn't run to help him.

"I propose a new deal. I give this back to you," he finally stated, holding up the offending muscle for him to observe, "and in return, you tell me everything you know about the man I am hunting. You ought to be more careful with your possessions!" he shouted, shaking the thing carelessly and flagrantly around in front of him. It was precious to him, perhaps he'd take a lesson in seeing something so important used so shamefully, though he was doubtful it would happen in this moment as he turned purple.

"Do you agree to my terms?"

He nodded and grunted. Clearly, willing to do as he said.

"What was that?" he questioned again just for sport.

Again, he grunted and nodded with an undeniable fervor.

"Oh, I'll take that as a yes then," and with another wave of magic, his pushed the tongue back into his mouth. Instantly he drew a great breath and coughed as if it was his breathing that had been affected. Then he brought his hand to his mouth and touched his tongue several times as if testing whether or not he'd actually put it back. A silly thing really, he'd seen black come out and black go in. Obviously, he knew it was there. And now he was wasting his time.

"Start talking…" he growled.

"The man who you're after, I've been chasing him for years!" he shouted. "He ruined me! He stole the woman I love and made me the laughingstock of all of Nottingham!"

All helpful information, though if he really had stolen the woman he loved, then he could only imagine what that woman had endured from him.

"Where can I find him?" he pressed.

"Last I heard, he was hiding out in Sherwood Forest," he answered without hesitation. Good. He loved it when a deal followed through.

"And his name?" he asked finally, hoping he possessed that one important piece of information. Even if it was an alias or a nickname, it would help him locate the thief.

"Robin Hood," the Sheriff answered. "He goes by Robin Hood."

Another Robin. How convenient.

He turned back to Belle without offering a word of goodbye to the Sheriff. He didn't deserve anything more than what he'd gotten. Especially if the look on Belle's face was any indication. She was breathing again. Her heartrate was elevated, but it wasn't as bad as it had been before. She was still pale, so pale he was surprised she hadn't swooned as so many of her gender might have. She was a strong one, maybe stronger than even he had realized.

But she didn't move. Her eyes weren't on him, they were trained on the Sheriff, unflinchingly so. Had she been alone that would have been a smart thing to do, one should always keep one's eyes on the true threat at hand. But she wasn't alone. She was with the most powerful creature in their realm. He wouldn't allow harm to come to her, especially not in that way.

Finally, her gaze broke. It was only once he purposefully moved between her and the Sheriff, forcing her to break her stare that he saw her focus shift. She swallowed so many times that he knew her mouth had gone dry. He could smell fear on her too. It was the first time she'd been that afraid around him. But it hadn't been him she'd been afraid of. It was the Sheriff. What a strange world they lived in.

When she didn't move to leave, he placed his hands at her waist and applied a gentle pressure to turn her around and move back toward the carriage. He kept his hand around her back. She trembled, but he knew it wasn't from him. If she didn't want his hand there, she easily could have moved out of his gasp. Instead, she leaned into it and stumbled a few times as they moved. The fucking Sheriff had left her terrified.

She grasped his hand tighter than normal when he helped her back into the carriage as if afraid she might fall. He could have sworn once the door was closed, and they were on their way again, that he heard her sigh in relief.

"Thank you," she squeaked out suddenly, without confidence or malice.

He wouldn't say she was welcome. He couldn't. He shouldn't have had to do what he'd done to begin with. He shouldn't have had to thank him for forcing a rutting pig to keep his dick in his pants. He was sorry she'd had to go through it. He was sorry for any woman who had to go through it.

"I don't make those kinds of deals," he muttered. He wanted to make sure she knew that he was disgusted by any man that would have allowed a deal like that to have been made. But the words never came. He listened to her heart once more and found it was still faster than it should have been, but it was better. She smelled better too; less fearful, more like...Belle. That was something, at least.

So he turned his attention from her and what had happened and instead began to seek out Robin Hood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Straight forward chapter that we all knew was coming. Even if it makes us all want to vomit. Even so, this chapter is actually a pretty big turning point in the Rumbelle relationship. It's that point that I told you about before, the one that I wasn't sure anyone would catch. It's small, it's subtle, you might not notice it happened until later, but there is a change that takes place in this chapter that is super important for the rest of the Beauty and the Beast Section and really the entire Rumbelle section. Did you catch it?
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for your comments on the previous chapter. I'm so happy to hear that you liked it, though I'm very sorry it was short! With this chapter we're back into the average to large size chapters though. And hey! More good news! With 219 chapters this chapter means we are a little more than half-way through. Yay! How's it been so far? Everything you hoped? Everything you dreamed? We've still got a long way to go but hopefully, it's been worth it so far. Hopefully. Maybe? Peace and Happy Reading!


	111. Trusting the Seer's Future

He shut Belle out and turned his attention to Sherwood Forest where the Sheriff had said he had been hiding. He began to work his magic. Robin Hood. The name was Robin Hood. And he had the wand. With those two pieces of information, he should be able to track him easily. And so he did. Nearly as soon as he'd closed his eyes to concentrate on him, the wand's signal magic flared again. It was close. Really close. He forced the horses to stop and looked around the forest around him. Magic had a look to it, a pulse of sorts, just as much as it did a smell and taste. He'd been living with the wand for so long down he could sniff it out like a hunting dog. It was there. In the forest. It was still a fair distance from them, but it was in the forest, off the road. They could no longer take the carriage. They'd have to go on foot.

Excitement stirred as he silently hurried Belle out of the carriage. He considered for a moment leaving her behind, wondering if what she'd gone through was enough, but the last thing he needed was to underestimate that Sheriff, leave her alone somewhere, and return to find something terrible had happened. He didn't need that kind of distraction. What he needed was to get his fucking wand back! Besides, he didn't want her to think he had sympathy for what she'd endured, or that he'd gone soft.

"What are we doing in the middle of nowhere?" she questioned when he finally got her out of the carriage and down on the ground.

"He's close by," he snapped by way of explanation, then took a breath and began to follow the scent of the wand's magic. Behind him he heard sticks snapping, branches breaking, and the ruffling sound of her dress and cloak dragging on a forest floor. It was a good thing he didn't need to hear the magic…

"You can't do this!" she called after him suddenly.

Well now, someone had finally found her voice again. How lovely to see that she'd recovered and just in time for the main event.

"I can and I will," he responded, calmly throwing the words over his shoulder before stopping and taking another breath. Up ahead and to the right.

"But it's wrong!"

"So was his decision to steal from me!" he called back. If she didn't stop screaming, he'd take her tongue too just to keep her quiet. He'd had enough time alone in that carriage with her he wanted this to be done and over with and if she spooked him away, so help him…

"But there must be a reason why! Something we don't know."

"If he truly needed it, he could have made a deal, just like everyone else in this realm who wants something from me!" That was how being the Dark One worked. If he did everything for free, he'd never have anything, and he'd look ten times worse than he did because of magic that hadn't been paid for. Not on his watch. No Dark One had ever done things that way and he wasn't about to be the first.

"Because making deals with you always works in everyone's favor!" she choked out desperately.

He spun around just in time to see her pull her dress free from some obstacle, his teeth clenched hard in his jaw. He didn't hear her complain a little bit ago when he'd taken her would-be rapist's tongue.

"That, dearie, is the-"

He didn't finish his sentence. He couldn't. He couldn't hear magic, but he'd just heard something up ahead, something capable of distracting him from the snarl of the woman before him. He heard it again, and this time focused on the one constant thing about it. The thing he'd heard was a horse's whinny. And the sound that was constant was the sound of wheels. Unstable wheels, like those on a cart.

They were here.

He forgot about Belle and turned back to follow the sound he heard. But she didn't give up, not easily at least. "You know, it's still not too late to turn back!" she urged as they continued to move through the wood. He ignored her and moved forward. "You know I'm not going to stand by and watch you kill a man!"

"Well, you're welcome to sit if you like!" he shouted, turning back to her direction. Persistent, stubborn woman! "But you are going to watch! That's the whole point of our little expedition, remember?" There…another whinny. A horse and cart was coming. The question was, did it carry Robin, or was it coming to rescue him? "To see what your actions wrought…" he finished off-handedly, moving forward toward the noise. And a pulse. The magic was crying out for him, or maybe trying to warn its captor that he was near. Whichever it was, it helped.

The place they'd been walking suddenly dropped off, leaving nothing but a steep bank below them. They could easily get down if they didn't mind stumbling along but with the bow in his hand…it was too perfect. There he was. The thief, Robin Hood! He was leaning against a tree, probably waiting for the wagon to come and take him far from here. Probably to a place where he could sell the wand or use it for himself for whatever mysterious reason. He was so bold as to have it in his hand now, out in the open, as if he believed himself to be perfectly safe. Fool. He was about to get the surprise of his life.

"Found him!" he muttered to himself.

"He's…he's waiting for someone," Belle muttered beside him.

Odd, if he didn't know any better, he'd say she was curious too. He watched as a horse with a flatbed cart rounded a corner. Robin saw it too. He moved from his spot and quickly made his way toward it. He was certain he was going to jump on the back of it and they'd take off!

But he couldn't. As they rounded the bend, he saw that the cart was already occupied. And the men driving the cart…they didn't wait for Robin Hood. As soon as they spotted Robin Hood they unhitched their load mounted the horse as one and took off leaving behind Robin Hood, the cart, and…

"That woman!" Belle exclaimed.

That woman. He knew the woman…how did he know the woman? It wasn't simply because the Sheriff had mentioned her…was it?

"That must be the one he stole from the Sheriff," he commented, but even as he explained it, he knew that wasn't right. He'd seen her before! Where had he seen her before! It was difficult to say. She was very clearly ill, probably deathly ill. Her skin was pale and sunken. She was wrapped in blankets. Her heart rate was far slower than it should have been, except for whenever she coughed, then it beat wildly but also dangerously erratically. It was something in her lungs. And her body was working to rid itself of it rather unsuccessfully. She was familiar and yet…not. Who the hell was the woman?!

He watched as she coughed again, and Robin Hood stood by her side and moved his hand delicately over her forehead, brushing her hair away. And then there was the wand, in his hand, and he knew what he was going to do before he even saw it. Why was he wasting time? He could kill him and put the girl out of her misery before taking back his wand!

He notched an arrow, set his sights on the woman so she wouldn't have to suffer much longer than she already had, prepared to shoot and-

Belle placed her hand over his arm and gave it a shove, forcing him to lose his target.

"She's sick. She's going to die!"

"And so is he," he muttered, attempting to raise his arm again.

"Stop!" she commanded, applying so much pressure that he was forced to drop his arm. He watched the couple at the bottom of the ridge for a response to her shout, but there was none. Instead, Robin moved his wand over the woman on the cart. He felt magic radiate from that area, begin to pulse and weave. The energy was focused into the woman as the wand moved over her body.

He healed her.

Her.

Marion.

Maid Marion…

The second her skin got its color back, the olive tone was what gave her away. He'd never met her, not personally. There was a time he'd watched her for a bit once. And he'd had a vision about her...a vision where the Sheriff of Nottingham had propositioned her. But she'd turned him down, rather clearly, if memory recalled, partly because he was a pig and she hated him but aside from that...it was because she was married. She was married to Robin of Locksley.

Suddenly he felt dizzy. Robin Hood…Robin of Locksley. And the way she smiled at him and he smiled at her…it wasn't possible! Robin of Locksley had sandy hair, a stalky build, a square jaw! The thief, Robin Hood was thin and tall, his hair was so dark it almost looked black, his chin was pointed, even the color of his eyes had been different! They were two different people. And yet…

What was the chance that dear Marion, who had been pursued by the Sheriff of Nottingham and so determined to stand by her husband in his vision would be involved with Robin of Locksely and Robin Hood? Could they be the same person? In his castle, the thief had smelled like magic, it had shimmered around him, but he hadn't known exactly what it had been. It wasn't a glamour, he knew glamour spells, he'd just put one on Regina! But if this was Robin of Locksley then whatever charm he was using certainly behaved like a glamour! He couldn't identify it.

But suddenly he could identify something else. Oh, he'd been a fool! When Robin had returned from Oz, he'd also smelled of magic; unfamiliar magic. It was a smell he hadn't had before he left. At first, he'd thought it was just the smell of jumping through portals, but now he glanced at the bow in his hand and recalled the memory to his mind of Robin telling him he'd failed. Yes. This bow had the same feeling some of that magic had! But it was only one part! The other part…

Robin Hood was Robin of Locksley.

Regina's heart.

"I'm right about him, about why he stole the wand!" Belle gloated next to him. "He did it so he could heal the woman he loves."

But not the one he'd love forever. The vision of Regina and Robin came back to him as he watched Robin and Marian stare at one another now. They'd kissed in that vision. And everything in that vision, from the look in their eyes, to their body language to their intimacy suggested it was "they" in every sense of the word. It wasn't Regina doing all the work, Robin had actively participated. _"She will be his heart,"_ the Seer had said. But he now had the feeling she would be his as well. What of Marian then?

"He's still a thief," he countered, fighting against Belle and the Seer in his mind. He'd stolen his wand. He wanted to kill him for it! He wanted to take it back and make him pay.

"She would have died if he hadn't stolen _your_ wand!" she argued.

So?! That was life! People died all the time! Perhaps that was how it was supposed to go! Perhaps she was meant to die and that was how he and Regina found each other! Perhaps by letting the prisoner go, she'd altered time! Had she altered his way back to his son?!

"And now he gets to die!" he roared back at her, anger flaring hot within his chest. "And she can tell all of Sherwood Forest what happens when you cross Rumpelstiltskin! There!" He waved his hand, he shifted dirt and grime with his magic and buried his maid half in the ground so she wouldn't be as much a distraction to him. "That should give you a good view!"

"You don't have to do this!" she shouted as he notched his arrow and drew back.

Now he just needed a good shot even as he debated the best coarse of action. Should he kill Robin and risk the future? Or kill her and set the future back on track? There seemed to be one obvious answer.

"There's good in you! I was right about the thief, and I'm right about you!" Belle whined away.

But it was needless. As if the Seer and her visions didn't already have a grip on his mind suddenly, he felt something cease upon his heart as he watched Marian, now healed, rise up from her spot on the cart. The blanket fell away, her cloak parted…

She was pregnant.

Not due any moment now, but still obviously, heavily pregnant.

"Look! She's pregnant!" Belle exclaimed, seeing it too.

Torn. He felt torn in two. That was the problem with having so many voices in his head. The Dark Ones demanded justice. They wanted the thief dead. They wanted him punished. They wanted the girl to see it and tell everyone to stay far away, not to risk their lives stealing from the Dark One or else…

But the Seer rebelled against them. She placed image after image in his head. Some he'd seen already, others were unfamiliar to him.

 _Regina and Robin embracing,_ familiar.

 _Himself inside some kind of carriage-like contraption, Regina at his side, as he watched Robin and Marian and a small boy on the black road._ Unfamiliar.

 _Robin of Locksley in the burgundy room as he lay on his back struggling to breathe._ Familiar.

 _Robin of Locksley handing him some kind of brown crate with odd things inside that he knew belonged to his son as a wave of sorrow he'd never felt before washed over him._ Unfamiliar.

 _Important! Intact!_ The Seer cried.

_His son._

_Not her daughter._

_The witch's daughter, the unreal pirate's daughter, two halves, one whole! Important! Intact! Preserve it! Guard them!_

"You are not the kind of man to leave a child fatherless!"

The Seer spoke gibberish, but then there was Belle beside him. She was half-buried in the dirt, but her voice was just as strong as ever, just as clear as the Seer she didn't know she agreed with.

_The future is a puzzle with many pieces to be sorted, in time you will learn to separate what can be from what will be._

Neither familiar nor unfamiliar…that hint was a memory of his own. And as he looked over the scene before him, Marian and Robin of Locksley, somehow disguised as Robin Hood, happily embracing with a child between them, he knew. His future, seeing his son again, was only what could be so long as they stayed alive. Why and how...he didn't know that yet. But he had to trust one day he would, just as he had to trust that one day, he'd learn why Belle mattered so much in all of this and what a chipped teacup had to do with it.

The Dark Ones squabbled and squawked at his decision at the thought that he'd get away, but he silenced them, took aim at the cart just behind them, and let the arrow fly.

Belle cried out as he did it, but he watched as it embedded itself in the wood just as he wanted. A warning. One that was received. The couple parted, Robin looked frantically around the wood for where it had come from then murmured a quick "we have to go" to Marian. They mounted the remaining horse and left together.

He had a feeling that though they would meet again one day, it wouldn't be in this realm. For now, he would leave them be. He'd let fate run it's course, whatever course it may be.

Belle, on the other hand…

"What happened?" she questioned, her voice half-filled with fright and half with confusion.

"I missed," he grumbled before waving his hand so that she could stand on her own two feet again. All he wanted to do was get back to his castle. He hadn't heard Regina's call for days now, if she'd given up on summoning him, then she'd be on her way to his castle to have him break the spell. He should be there when she finally arrived. They should go. "Get back to the carriage. I'm bored with this forest."

"You're…you're not going after him?!" she questioned further. Women! Would he ever understand them? One moment she wanted him to go back to the carriage, and now that he'd released them, she was the one who just couldn't let it go!

"He's not worth the efforts," he lied. His future told him he owned those wands and yet…as he stared he realized…that wand hadn't been part of his vision. He was destined to lose it…and gain another.

"You spared his life," Belle stated, sounding confident in her victory.

He wasn't looking at Belle but he could feel her smile, feel her gloating beside him. She beamed brighter than any woman he'd ever met before, and while that might have been impressive to some at the moment, today it was just downright annoying.

"What?!" he roared, trying to shake himself out of the future and ifs and maybes and back into the present. When Baelfire was on his mind, it was difficult to do. "I did nothing of the sort."

"That bow has magic in it. It never misses its target," she trumped.

Honestly…the woman had no sense of tact.

"Well, perhaps the magic just simply wore…off…"

She was closer than he'd thought she was. Probably because she'd been screaming at him since they arrived, now that she was speaking normally he expected her to be a distance away, not right there at his shoulder. And the look on her face, it wasn't one of gloating or winning as he'd thought it would be, but rather pride. Not in herself. For him. She wore it well. How had she-

Suddenly thoughts of the past and questions of the future faded away. He was in the present again. Pulled violently back into it by a set of arms flung tight around his neck. For a moment he was caught off balance by it, he worried he might fall backward as he tried to adjust to the extra weight and the instability of a forest floor, then he felt the world stop as she lingered. He felt one of his hands around the wood of the bow and the other…it was just hanging there in the dead space. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

He could remember hugging Baelfire, bone-crunching, hardy hugs that left him breathless. He could remember putting his arms around him and trying to leave the same impression on his son but with her…he already felt like he couldn't breathe and it was so light. He wasn't sure what to do with that extra hand! He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him, much less-

And then it was over. She backed away from him and settled back on her feet. He hadn't even realized she'd been on her toes. He felt his mouth go dry as her happy smile continued, and she patted down a part of his cloak that she'd upset and then turned to walk away, leaving him feeling odd. Empty.

What the hell had just happened?

She paused suddenly and looked back over her shoulder at him as he continued to stare. He felt as though he'd just been struck by lightning. How was he to recover from that? What spell had she cast?

"Aren't you coming?" she asked, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

Coming...

Back to the carriage.

Yes!

Back to the carriage that would take them home, to the castle.

His castle!

His mind began to work again as he collected the quiver of arrows he suddenly couldn't remember dropping and glanced back up at her to see if she'd noticed. She blushed, smiled again, and turned her back to return to the carriage.

He felt himself smirk but couldn't bother to question it. Because at the same time he made the decision to follow after her, the Seer whispered the oddest thing he'd ever heard in his head.

_To the ends of the earth and the Edge of the Realms…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this chapter more than you know, but not just because it's an iconic Rumbelle scene. It was fun to watch the 2x19 chapters come together for Rumple, with Robin Hood as well as with Belle. I loved putting a new twist on why Rumple didn't shoot Robin. That's not to say that Belle isn't the reason in this chapter or in my version, I think she is certainly one of the reasons. But with everything else he knows about the future, after watching Rumple for seven seasons, it seemed plausible that not killing Robin could be more complex than just "Belle doesn't want me to and I want to impress her." I like getting him to the point where he realizes what's going on, Robin Hood, Maid Marion, the bow, even the wand! And I really loved giving him another glimpse of something important for the future.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB, Jenigweve, and SerafineSnape for your comments on the previous chapter. I'm so very appreciative of that! I told you this would seem like a lot of chapters for 2x19 but hopefully getting to a much loved Rumbelle scene makes up for it! Of course, there is another one coming at you for 2x19 before we can really say we are wrapped up here, it's also an iconic scene and I'm hoping you'll love it, just as I'm hoping you'll love this one. Onward we go! Peace and Happy Reading!


	112. The Power of a Smile

He liked it when she smiled.

The fact that he liked it when she smiled confounded him at first, but after a bit of thinking, he concluded it was because he couldn't remember the last time anyone had smiled at him the way she did. Smiled with him present? Sure. Regina had done it all the time when he taught her magic. Smiled because they thought it was polite or they were nervous? Naturally. It was a defense mechanism; people did it without realizing constantly. Smiled because he'd just given them what they thought was everything, and they were excited? He saw that all too frequently, but being able to see the outcome spoiled it for him. But smiled because they were genuinely happy? Proud of him for doing nothing at all? No deal required? He hadn't really seen that since Bae and even then, Bae hadn't blushed the way she did when she smiled.

Their ride back to the castle was quiet. Without anyone to track, he felt free to use his magic, the same spell he'd used when he'd first brought her home actually, to get them back by the time night fell, and he didn't regret that decision. The quiet was nice. The rest was welcome. And every now and then, when her gaze moved about the cabin and caught his eye, he saw her blush before a smile tugged at her again, and she quickly looked outside at the blurring woods or tried to cover it with her hand. It was contagious, he'd caught himself smirking at the gesture more than a few times, and by the time they crossed the doors back into the grounds, he had to admit that it really was a beautiful smile.

Back inside, she began to fiddle with the clasp on her cloak, and it was barely a thought and wave of his hand before both his and hers disappeared into some closet somewhere. And then into the great room they went, just as they had all day. She led, he trailed after her. A million things that he could do raced through his mind. But the thought to leave her to go do them wasn't in his head at all. He didn't even know why he'd followed her. It was late. Nearly dark. He'd fed them on the road before they arrived. There was nothing left to do. No reason to follow her. And yet he hadn't been able to stop himself.

"Looks like you won't be needing that bow anymore," she finally commented, glancing at him out of the side of her eyes with her proud smirk. Her smile made him want to smile.

"Actually, I think I'll hold onto it," he responded, finally coming to a stop beside his chair. Where was he going? "You never know, could come in handy someday."

The comment helped to bring him around a bit. He'd felt odd since the forest. Dizzy, perhaps, was the best word for it. But the bow, despite what he'd told her in the forest was still working, it had magic in it, and the suggestion he might be finished with it helped him feel a little bit more like himself as he rebelled. He'd never gotten rid of something magical before without a deal being made or a purpose. He wasn't about to start now, no matter how topsy turvy the world felt at the moment. Even letting Robin take the wand had its benefits, though he couldn't see them now. Except of course, when she smiled...

Like that.

He'd stopped walking, but she'd moved on and now turned to face him again. The fireplace was glowing, but he'd seen her smile so many times today he knew she'd be blushing again. The shadows at the fire disguised it, but not well enough to hide it on her neck and chest. He hadn't been able to notice that when she'd been wearing her cloak.

"Well, uh…if you don't need me for anything else…good night, Rumpelstiltskin."

Rumpelstiltskin. She said it lyrically, like a laugh but not like the laughter it had garnered him in his youth. He liked it. Just like he liked her smile. It made him feel...lighter, somehow. Turning to watch her go to end her day and start one tomorrow that might not include that smile…

"No wait!" he shouted unexpectedly.

Wait? Wait for what?! What did he want her to wait for? Just one more smile? One more blush? Perhaps, but she wasn't smiling now, not as she turned to face him. She looked confused. He wanted that smile back. But what could he say that would bring it about? What could he do to bring it back, not just for today but for every day? He searched his mind, quickly going over a few things and dismissing them until he recalled their previous encounter in this room. He was almost embarrassed to remember it now, but there was helpful, valid information in that encounter. Information he could use. He had an idea.

"There is something else," he confessed, motioning over his shoulder, hoping she would take the lead so he could follow, but she hadn't a clue where he wanted her to go. He hadn't a clue either until a few moments ago! So he turned on his heel and led the way, happy to hear her footsteps follow after him.

He began to work his magic the moment they left the room. There was an empty tower, the one across from his own that she liked to look out of would work for what he had in mind. He needed a few things. With a summoning spell he called forth that couch that she'd moved into their Great Room before Robin Hood had arrived, he called forth a table and other chairs, a blanket and pillows, he sparked a fire to life in the fireplace. And then, just as he opened the door and they took to the stairs, he summoned the last but most important element.

The result was breathtaking, even for him.

He'd never really had a library in the castle. Oh, sure, he supposed there had been one for the previous owner somewhere, and there was his own private collection in his tower, but he'd left that alone. Instead, he'd called forth every other book he could find, gathered it in this one place, including the one that he'd snatched from her before they left. All assembled here in this room, on bookshelves that went as high as the wall, even he was impressed. And she…

She was speechless. They walked slowly around the place, and his heart raced as he looked over his shoulder, hoping to see her smile again only to get a better reaction. She really was breathless. Her jaw hung open as she looked about and took it all in. He'd done well. Looking in on her for all these years told him that she was a reader. This would, hopefully, make her time with him a bit more enjoyable. And lead to more smiles.

But he would never admit that. Not to her. Not to anyone.

"Temper your excitement, dearie," he urged as they continued their stroll. "This is just another room for you to clean."

"It's beautiful," she gawked. "There's more books here than I could read in a lifetime."

"Then I hope you can clean faster than you can read."

He doubted she'd heard the comment. She was already moving to the table where a book had positioned itself in the move. He could have sworn he heard a sigh of relief as she picked it up and began to page through it.

"Did you do all this for me?" she questioned, looking up at him. There was a smile on her face, yes, but also something in her eyes. Tears. Of gratitude, he dared to think. She liked it. And he liked that she liked it, but that too was something he couldn't dream of admitting.

"I better not see a single speck of dust gathering on any of these books!" he ordered. She smiled. Beamed all over again. He really liked it when she did that. "What are you smiling at, missy?!" he joked, pointing a finger at her and feigning, quite obviously and uncharacteristically, irritation.

She gave a small chuckle. She'd done that when she'd broken the teacup, and he'd made a joke. This time was a bit more natural. Did she think him funny?

Something inside of him leaped as she did something he hadn't expected. She put the book back down on the table, moved around it, then grabbed the hand that he'd pointed at her in her own. He straightened, shrinking from the contact that stole his breath. He didn't know how to react, he didn't know what to do when he felt skin that was more than a simple handshake. He didn't know why she was doing it. He didn't know how her hands could be so soft and warm. Had she been like that in the forest? Had he noticed?

"You're not who I thought you were," she confessed, her voice just as full of emotion as her eyes were tears. "And I'm glad."

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. There were too many thoughts going through his head for him to focus on one. But all at once, there was only one.

Who was he that she was glad?

Moments ago, he'd been happy, giddy almost! But now…he felt suddenly awful, truly terrible. These last few days…they'd been dreadful! He'd been so poorly behaved and yet…yet she was glad?! And here he was, standing in a library he'd secretly, or not so secretly, just crafted for her, hoping to get a smile, hoping that it might erase some of what had happened or at the very least make up for what he'd put her through. He wanted her happy? Why? He'd never cared before, not about anyone, not about what they thought of him or what he'd done. Why did her thoughts have such an effect? Why was he suddenly struggling not to cry for what felt like the first time in his life?

What spell had she cast indeed?

He couldn't think of something to say. So he did the only thing he could think to do to break the spell. He tore his hand from her grip and left. He left her standing there in her new library, and he locked himself in his room to hide like the coward he was; the coward she didn't see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you love this chapter! I love this chapter. I know it's got that slow feel to it again, but that was totally done on purpose. This was a big chapter for adding that layering into it that I talked about earlier in my "how men fall in love" research. He likes her smile. That seemed like a big step from the step-one "she's got nice cleavage". And of course, now he gets to add strength and gratitude and blushes to his list of things he's loving about her. It's building. Quickly. I hope that's easy to see.
> 
> Thank you Jenigweve and RolfB for your comments! I can't wait to hear what you'll say about this one. With so much action in it, I was a bit worried that it would come out badly, but so far I've been pleased with it and I'm hoping you'll report it's just fine as well! In the next few chapters we're moving on from the 2x19 chapters, we'll finish out 2x20 soon enough and we'll be on to the next important moment before you know it! Peace and Happy Reading!


	113. Working Through Avoidance

She'd gone to bed early that night, almost immediately after he'd given her the library, in fact. And the moment he sensed she was locked away it had freed him to leave his room and wander down into the Great Room. She had him feeling dizzy, like he was three times taller than he actually was. And somehow it made him long for something normal. Work. Spinning. Anything that made him feel like he was the master of his own castle and not sweating because of the woman downstairs in his dungeon. He locked her in, with his magic so that he didn't need to go down and risk being close to her. He set things right in his Great Room. With the couch up in her library now, he moved his spinning wheel back into the corner where it belonged, then turned his attention to the windows. He closed them. He put the drapes back over them and then stopped.

He'd tried to do something that might make things seem normal and yet…he knew she was going to try again someday. Women like Belle, they didn't give up easily. After this little excursion, she probably wouldn't try any time soon, but one day…one day she would. She'd begin testing her boundaries again some day, and that was when she'd try to open them once more. He almost looked forward to that day…which was why he used his magic to hammer nails into them. That would ensure some entertainment. He'd seen then just how determined she could be.

Work! He wanted to work. He didn't want to think of her or her determination or stubbornness. He wanted to do something to get back to work, and so he had. It was the bow that started it. He looked his new prize over and looked at the place where his wand had once sat, and for the first time he realized that when the curse hit he risked being separated from his things. All his wonderful, magical, useful things! He could fix that.

Over the next week or so, he threw himself into his work. He created a new spell. He called it a Magnetism Spell. It was a carefully crafted combination of spells that would all work together for one cause. First, a very low and diluted portion was a Sticking Spell, designed to keep objects connected, whether not they wanted to be together. He'd never once found that spell helpful other than for a laugh, but for this purpose it would work well in low quantities. He wanted his collection close to him, he didn't want it stuck to him for the rest of his life. There was a better, stronger version of a Lost and Found Spell, a spell that was already a variation, of his own creation, on a Tracking Spell. The difference was that this potion didn't bring objects to life, instead, it worked on the being that held it, compelling them to return it to its owner. He added a longevity potion that would ensure those spells stayed active for far longer than normal-close to fifty years, long enough for the curse to be cast, the Swan to grow, return, and the boy to lead him to his Baelfire. Finally, the easiest portion but the most important, the Magical Absorption Spell. If he was going somewhere without magic, he had to make sure his own remained active. Some of the objects he wanted had magic innately built into them, but others, like his spinning wheels, didn't. He had to take what wasn't magical and make it magical, create a store it could draw from for years to come. That was what the Magical Absorption Spell did. It would force non-magical items to draw this magic deep inside of them and keep it locked there, using it when there was none. Over time, the energy of the magic would decrease and wear off entirely, but it was his hope that with the longevity potion at play as well, that by the time the curse broke, he'd have everything right where he needed it. His one regret was that he hadn't thought to do this before he'd lost the fairy wand.

It took him days, and many pricks of the finger to draw enough of his own blood out and get it into the potions, to mark everything he wanted. The curse being cast was years away, but he felt suddenly like he was packing. He did his work secretly, starting with the doorless chamber, then his tower. Each night, when Belle went to sleep, he let himself out to wander about the castle and mark what he wanted, without her prying eyes. But what he found was that he didn't need to work too hard to avoid her, he wasn't the only one who had come home and thrown himself into work. It seemed that she had too.

On the night he'd given her the library, some small part of him truly believed that he might have just given her permission to stop doing her chores and spend all her time reading. But he was pleasantly surprised to find the library might have been the best thing he could have done, not only for her, but himself as well. While she liked to read fantasy books and fairy tales, she often left other books around that he found, books on housekeeping, cooking, even medical remedies. Almost overnight, the food she served improved. Meal after meal turned better than the last. And though they both appeared to be trying not to look at the other, every now and then, as he ate, out of the corner of his eye, he could see her waiting for signs of approval. He tried not to give them. He'd already been soft enough with her.

But her improvements didn't stop with food. His clothes were finally unstained and cleaned well.

The castle, it seemed, was clean too. She'd begun to create cleaning supplies for herself that went beyond just using a duster. She'd begun keeping most of it in a little room downstairs and had started in the Great Room. To his shock and amazement, he hadn't found a single bit of dust on the surfaces since she'd begun. Now she seemed to finally begin working out a schedule and working on some other rooms in the castle, cleaning them methodically. She hadn't tried on his room yet, she didn't seem to go in there for more than laundry and to make small adjustments.

The biggest surprise, however, was her attitude. He avoided her whenever he could, but he did like to check in on her using the mirrors and crystal ball throughout the day, he told himself it was to make sure she was working and not lazing about reading. She often wasn't, but when he watched her, he found that she seemed to be enjoying herself. She was determined and hardworking, and when she was finished with something, he had to admit that he liked to see the way she put her hands on her hips, looked over her work with a proud smile, then moved on to her next task. Efficient. He liked that.

He was glad she was working so hard, that they were both busy working. It gave him an excuse not to be around her as much as before. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her, he just didn't see the point and that was what really scared him. There was no purpose to seeing her, and yet he wanted to. He just didn't know why. He didn't know what to say. He'd given her a library, it was more than he'd ever given any maid he'd ever had before. It was good, but he felt like he'd unintentionally crossed a line and didn't know where to go from there. Keeping distance between them was the smartest thing to do, he'd concluded. At least until he had a plan for moving forward or backward. And until then...

Having the castle clean was inspiring in some strange way. It smelled like lemons though he couldn't for the life of him figure out where she'd have gotten lemons for the scent. It had the oddest effect, though. For the first time in a long time, it was beginning to feel like home, a place he wanted to be. Perhaps that was why he'd summoned fresh flowers for the entryway. Maybe that was why, when Regina kept calling him, he checked on her progress and then decided to let her finish her journey to his castle.

In fairness, she had made it much faster than he ever would have thought anyone would. The journey from her Kingdom to his castle could take weeks, and had taken her weeks, but when he finally felt someone cross over into his property and heard her call for him yet again, he was shocked. He thought it would have taken her another day or so.

He didn't rush outside to greet her. She'd already walked this far, she may as well walk to the front door. Which was why he calmly finished the spool of thread he was spinning and pocketed it before walking to the door. Regina would be here in a moment, angry, no doubt, but he had plans for the thread. Belle's dress, the one she had yet to change out of since arriving, hadn't been designed for a trip through the woods or scrubbing floors on hands and knees. It was beginning to show signs of wear. For a while he'd wondered why she didn't change until he realized she'd brought nothing with her when she'd arrived. It was a problem. Too much longer and the thing would fall off of her. Short term, he intended to fetch a needle and hide it with the thread in her library, hoping she'd take a hint. Long term, he had yet to figure out how to get her more clothes without appearing generous. Things were odd enough between the two of them after the library; he didn't need them to be-

The second he swung the door to the Great Hall open, his thoughts ceased as he was greeted with an unexpected vision in yellow, exactly what he hadn't planned on running into. He heard his breath suck in with shock and she jumped, letting out a gasp herself. She'd been by the table. Had she been smelling the flowers? Did she like them? It was a poor time for him to suddenly notice there were dead ones in the bunch and he suddenly wished he hadn't done it.

He couldn't think of anything to say. He couldn't think of anything to do. Regina was on her way, probably would be here any minute but running into Belle was not something he'd planned on or wanted. Stupid, really, the more they stared at each other, the more he realized it was close to dinnertime. She'd probably been on her way to the kitchens when she'd literally stopped to smell the roses…or whatever those white things were…

He wished she'd used that time to mend her dress instead.

Regina's voice echoed in his mind again, another summoning so weak now that she was practically outside he barely felt a pull. But she was angry, furious, he didn't want Belle to see that. They were going to have to say something to one another.

"Ah…hold dinner for just a few extra minutes," he finally declared tapping his fingertips together. "I…ah…I'm going to be a bit later tonight."

Suddenly her eyebrows lifted almost excitedly and her shoulders dropped into a more relaxed posture. She almost looked relieved that he'd spoken. She moved to pick up a book he hadn't noticed on the table, but it fumbled to the ground instead and she swooped down to pick it up before he could get it for her. He'd taken a step before he'd had to catch himself.

"How-how long?" she asked before glancing back up at him. "How late will you be?"

Was it him, or did she sound interested?

It was just work. Obviously, it was just work. She had to prepare dinner, he had to meet with Regina, those were the questions she had to ask. And really, they were questions that were none of her business.

"Not long," he answered without giving a definitive answer. He didn't really have one. Regina would be here in seconds, he imagined that once he gave her back her magic she'd be gone soon, but didn't really know.

He expected, now that she had the information she'd run off. But she didn't. She stood there in the hall with him, looking awkwardly every which way except his eyes. Perhaps he should move, give her a clear path to the door. But that meant getting closer to her. Why did that make him nervous?

"I'll, uh…I'll get started!" she finally smiled clutching the book to her chest and hiding the fact that more jewels had fallen off her bodice today. Did she know how shabby she looked these days. It didn't suit her, not one bit. He really needed to do something about it. "It shouldn't be long," she assured him without taking a step.

"Just long enough," he smiled back as his stomach flipped over. He was an idiot. She'd been about to leave and then he'd had to go and make a comment and now she seemed stuck there again, grinning and blushing and-

Regina again…that time he hadn't just heard the call in his head but with his ears as well. If he didn't get rid of Belle soon she'd walk right into this and he didn't want her exposed to the witch. This had to end.

He took a breath, then did the only thing that came to him. He pointed at the door and said "I have business…"

"Right!" she exclaimed suddenly, her eyes going wide as her damn blush deepened. They hadn't been here long but she was no stranger to people coming to the castle for him. She'd learned he liked to conduct his business in private and quickly seemed to gather herself. "I'll, uh…go…make dinner then," she stuttered, finally moving to the door.

He should have moved around her, he should have gone around the other side of the table, but instead he moved only a step or two out of the way and inhaled as she passed by catching that scent of lemons he was noticing more often. He watched her as she turned, his eyes immediately moving to the hem of her dress and a new tear he saw there. He really had to do something about that before it fell off entirely. She was distracting enough when she was around. He didn't need her naked too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I had this chapter hooked into the next one but they were both too long and it turned out they both had something different to say. So I separated them and reading through this again for it's final edit, I don't regret it. In Moments, the scene is short and filled with lots of questions on Belle's side, I really enjoyed taking this little encounter to Rumple to see what he was thinking. I hope you like it.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB and Jenigweve for your comments on the previous chapter. I did promise that I would explain how so many things seem to wander back to Rumple during the Curse. This chapter holds that explanation. I hope that you'll think it's acceptable. Peace and Happy Reading!


	114. The Clothes Make the Woman

There was another scream outside, this one closer than the others had been. It startled him, served as a reminder for why he was standing in the foyer to begin with, and it wasn't to run accidentally into his maid. He was here to meet Regina. She was close. By the time he heard the pounding on his door, he was in place, leaning against the table in the very spot Belle had been standing only moments ago. He let the door unlatch and Regina, still perfectly disguised as a peasant girl without a drop of magic, practically fell into the room.

"Why didn't you come when I called you?!" she spat out. She was limping, that was a trait he hadn't given her, though he didn't know why now that he saw it. It made the peasant look she wore very convincing; he should know.

"Sorry, dearie. Do I know you?" he teased. "I already have a maid. Promising girl, actually."

"You know who I am!" Regina snapped. "You were supposed to come change me back."

He let out a high laugh. "Was I?"

Regina glared at him, or at least her idea of what a glare was. Unfortunately, on the face of this girl it was no more than a harsh stare that glance off of him. If only she knew what he'd really been up to when she'd called. Hadn't she learned yet that he had a life beyond her?

"I said you could call. Didn't say I'd answer."

"Argh!" she roared suddenly, letting out a puff of breath into his face that smelled…less than appealing. It brought back memories, and not good ones.

"Oh!" he responded, waving his hand in front of his face. "Have the peasants no soap then?"

"Will you just take this damn spell off me?" she yelled, walking toward the mirror he kept in the corner covered with a heavy cloth. He felt his heart skip a beat that she might take notice of that, but a second later, he realized she was much to angry to care as she whipped it away. "I want my magic back, and I wanna be able to get into my own damn castle, thank you very much."

"Aw," he cooed stepping up next to her and looking in the mirror where her true face appeared. He couldn't wait to examine the crystal ball to discover the adventure she'd had. By her actions, it seemed to be a very unpleasant one. The question was, was it unpleasant enough to get the desired effects? "Told you it wouldn't be pleasant."

"You wanna hear you were right? Is that it? Huh? Well…you were right."

"Oh, I like that. Right about what?"

Regina drew a breath and stared at herself in the mirror. "They'll never love me," she admitted.

He smiled. Perfect. Just perfect. "So sad and yet so true," he confirmed. Finally he took a step away from her and summoned his magic to remove the spell. "What are you gonna do now, then?"

Regina stepped closer to the mirror, looked herself in the eyes, and sneered. It was a grin filled with malice, that should have set fear into the heart of every peasant that saw her, and brought hope to him.

"Punish them."

Perfect!

He let out another giddy laugh as he released the magic and removed the glamour from his pupil, or perhaps chess piece was a more accurate description. She was back, dressed perfectly in the outfit she'd been wearing however long ago he'd set the spell to begin with. She took a deep breath as she examined herself once more, sleek and proper, trim and sexy, a woman in power that would strike fear in the hearts of all that met her and would drive a woman to want more than to crush some hearts

"The Queen is dead," she declared, examining herself. "Long live...the Evil Queen."

He smiled, jumping up and down and clapping his hands. Now she was becoming someone that might cast a curse to destroy an entire realm. She wasn't quite there yet. In order to cast the curse, in order to pull the heart from her dear father, she had to believe there was truly no other way. She wasn't ready yet, but she was the closest she'd ever been in her ever-evolving process. The trouble was, he was not ready. Or rather, Snow White and her Prince Charming and their lovely Swan-like daughter to be were not ready. But he had the feeling they would be soon enough.

"If you'll excuse me," Regina snapped suddenly, turning on the spot and letting her cloak flare out behind her. "I have work to do…and you!" she narrowed her gaze as she stepped closer and put her finger out between them as if she were chastising a child. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the hell away from me, or I'll make you regret not coming as you promised!"

"Oh! Testy!" he cried, truly entertained by her supposed threat. He'd taught her everything she knew, what could she possibly do to him?

"You try being a peasant for as long as I have and see how you feel about it," she drawled before smoke covered her body and she was gone. She was angry at him for keeping her a peasant for so long. If she only knew. But there were very few alive who knew that little fact about him and though Cora was one of them he doubted that witch had ever told her daughter. Regina hadn't even known how to pronounce his name when they'd first met and now look at her. Idle threat or not, it spoke volumes as to how far she had come, and he couldn't have been prouder.

He walked into the Great Room that night smiling and beaming, feeling as though he was walking on air because small as this little experiment had been, it had brought Regina to a conclusion he was waiting for. He wanted to sit down at his wheel and spin, relax in a job well done, and consider what there was left on his checklist before he saw the table and the fire and heard from somewhere close by the tinkering of china. Dinner. Belle was on her way with it.

There would be time to spin afterward.

Strong and powerful and demanding as Regina had been in her Queenly regalia, that was how soft and delicate his maid looked. He tried not to notice her as she came in, tried not to roll his eyes, but really…how could she not notice her royal frock was falling apart? How could she not care that the jewels were going missing that there was a tear at the bottom, that it was clean but stained and the bottom needed a new hem. How had she not complained to him about it yet? The incident with Robin of Locksley had taught him that she had no trouble making herself heard when she needed to. Did she not realize that she needed to say something? That it would spare him trying to figure out some way to give her something to wear without letting on that he was thinking about it?

He nearly swallowed his own tongue when she brought the tray of food over to serve him. She was up to something, there was no doubt about that. For there on the tray was not just his meal, but also a second. He held his breath as he watched her, wondering if perhaps she'd thought Regina was staying for dinner and had simply been polite, but he had a feeling it wouldn't have been something that easy. And sure enough, after she'd finished setting his place and dinner before him, she paused. He watched as she looked to the opposite side of the table, then quickly around the rest of the room. She took a breath, then another. Then removed the second plate from the tray, carried it over to the chair he kept for himself beside the fire. She planted herself down in it like she did it all the time, like she belonged there, and without a moment of hesitation, began to eat.

And there he sat. Frozen. Unable to form a thought or an argument. Unable to think of a single thing to say to her. She'd never done this before! She always ate in the kitchen by herself. Why she would just plop down and eat there, in his chair of all places?!

And why couldn't he respond? He should be angry. He should be roaring at her inappropriateness right now. He should be screaming at her to get back to the dungeons and never to do this again! But the words never came. The anger he needed for the words was drowned out in confusion and the smell of beef she'd cooked in what appeared to be some kind of gravy with mashed potatoes. Thanks to the books, it was a vast improvement on what she'd cooked before. And it did smell tempting.

He couldn't see her, not with the angle of the chair, at best he got a glimpse of her arm as she ate and the tattered remains of her gown, but he kept his eyes on her as he finally lifted his utensils and began to eat himself.

She was relieved. If the way she sighed was any indication, at least. He was…he wasn't sure how he was. Eating dinner, with Regina on her way home, his maid eating with him, in his chair…he had the silent careless thought that the day would come when Regina would cast his Curse and she'd get her punishment, but even just thinking that thought nearly had him choking on his food. It was inevitable, Belle lived in this world and was important to his son, which meant that the Curse would affect her too. But he wasn't sure how he felt about it. The spell he'd been working on recently to call all his possessions to him in the Curse only worked on objects, not on people. He couldn't be sure where she would end up or how she'd be once they were there. Though, he was prepared, one day, to offer Regina a deal to assure his own life in the new world, he supposed he could do something like that for Belle as well, make her his maid there too, or a neighbor…

He couldn't think about that now. It was still years off, and where she ended up was a need that was secondary to what she wore. It would take a wave of his hand to change her clothes, to give her something more appropriate that wasn't falling apart. But as he finished his food and moved to the wheel to spin for a bit and she continued to pick at her plate by the fire, quietly continuing to avoid his judging gaze, he realized he couldn't do that. She was already too bold, and he'd already given her more than he'd ever given any other maid he'd had. This had to be done carefully, thoughtfully.

Thoughtfully...

The Emperor he'd once convinced wore clothes of greatest quality told him that it was the clothes that made the man, when he looked at himself and Cora and even Regina it was easy to see how that was true. Who they were, what they were, all their transformations were reflected in what they wore. It was even true for peasants! But then there was Belle, the great contradiction. Was she a Princess dressed in rags? A maid dressed in a pitiful ballgown? Or something else? Neither this nor that made any sense when it came to her. She had all the power and confidence that Regina had when she was dressed in black and considering murder, but all the gentle kindness his peasant aunts had in their lowly garb. If only he could think of something that would match what she was on the inside! But somehow, as the wheel spun on and she collected their plates to leave, he doubted there ever was a garment that could match her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't pleased with how this chapter came out. I hated that I had to take what essentially should have been two chapters and combine them. But I could not in good conscious separate these considering how small they both would have turned out. But I liked adding in his reflections on the clothing. I felt like that was a really good way to tie this chapter together.
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for your very kind (and very witty and right on) comments. Well...all you Moments-turned-Chronicles Readers, you might know what's coming up next. All this talk about clothes certainly hasn't been for nothing. Up next, it all comes to fruition in a chapter that, I admit, is slow and reflective, but one that I really like anyway. Onward we go, Peace and Happy Reading!


	115. A Secret Plan

She was having a bad day. He could tell that just by the way she moved. In fact, that was nearly the only way to tell that she'd had a bad day because they rarely spoke to one another. What was odd to him was why she was having the bad day. It should have been a good day. He'd forgotten, last night, to lock her into her cell. It was purely by accident, but by the time he'd realized it, it had been too late in the night and he hadn't wanted to disturb her sleep, so he'd left the lock open. A trial run, he considered it. If she was to be here forever, perhaps having a bit of freedom to roam about wasn't the worst thing he could grant to her, so long as she could handle the privilege of it.

She could. Naturally. He'd come to find that the woman could handle just about anything that was tossed her way with impressive determination and grace. He'd let her have her freedom that night, and the next morning breakfast had shown up right on time. They ate in silence, a sort of unspoken truce between them. He pretended not to notice that she ate next to the fire instead of the kitchen, and she didn't disturb him as he ate. It wasn't ideal, but it worked well enough that it wasn't worth it to fight that battle with her. She was bold. It was the same boldness that he knew would one day be responsible for the windows opening again, or her attempt at least. He didn't understand strength like hers, but he could respect it, especially after all she was doing.

She worked like a madwoman. Funny, all his previous maids had been housekeepers and peasants, they'd all had some kind of idea of what hard work was, what it meant to be a caretaker, and yet this little princess, who he was certain had never lifted a finger before her arrival, worked harder than any of them. She was on a mission, it seemed, to purge his home of dust and dirt and clutter, and to make it into an actual home. For what purpose, he didn't know. He used only a handful of rooms, why she was so determined to keep the rest of them clean was a mystery. But she did it. In fact, she was so busy throughout the day that at night as she slept he'd had to cast a spell on all the fireplaces in the castle to light themselves when she entered a room just so that she didn't come to him and ask him to do it all the time as she moved about.

Somehow, without talking about it, they'd developed a familiar routine that kept them both amicable, but also busy. In the mornings, after breakfast, they separated until teatime. He went to work in his Tower, but kept track of her throughout the castle. At first, he'd done it to make sure she was working. Now he did it just to see what she was up to and where. She kept a tight schedule for herself, he'd noticed; one that didn't require him, thankfully. If she'd finished a book in the night, the first thing she did was exchange it so she had something to do while laundry was drying or water was boiling, and then the real work began.

Her average was about two rooms a day; sometimes if the rooms were bigger it was less, if they were smaller it was more. She was methodical about it. She would clean one room from morning until tea time, then fix them their tea, which they both now shared in the Great Room with minimal or no conversation, then back to work she went, cleaning out another room before she had to make dinner. If there was time in between, he might find her reading somewhere or doing some dusting as she hummed to herself. She fit his laundry in there somewhere before he saw her again for dinner, and that was their night. They ate, then she read by the fire as he spun at his wheel. When she was tired, she left for bed. When he was ready to work again, he went to the Tower or, if she was too distracting, he went to his bedroom, closed the door, and spun there, knowing that she wouldn't dare enter.

He hated to admit it, but they'd fallen into a comfortable schedule the two of them. It was a good way of life, one that worked for both of them, but didn't really require they go above and beyond to interact and that was just fine for him. Though he did wish she wasn't so distracting. He did wish that he hated the way the fire cast shadows over her as she read, or despised the company she afforded him during meals, or wasn't as interested in what she was doing throughout the day so he had to stop and use his cauldron and crystal ball to watch. He wished he could look into her mind and figure out why it was teatime and, instead of acting as she normally did, she was unhappy. Or worse yet…his suspicion about why she was upset was correct, and he wished that he didn't understand why.

There was another tear in her dress this afternoon. The frock was dull with fresh dust, missing another jewel, smelled musty. She didn't wash it as often as she should; probably because she had nothing else to put on. He knew what had happened, of course, he'd been watching her when it had, curious if she would get her morning room done in time for tea. Without her knowledge, he'd looked on as she'd pulled back the curtains in the room, unleashing a cloud of dust that caused her to sputter and fall and rip her dress…and then cry. That was when he'd looked away. She'd needed a moment to herself, and he felt like he was invading watching her like that. When she'd first served tea today, he'd thought she'd managed to pull herself together, but it was obvious to him that she hadn't. It upset her. He wished he could understand how she could cope so well with being captive, but a simple trip and some dust could knock her to her knees and bring her to tears. He wished so many things when it came to her.

"Servanthood not everything you hoped it would be?" he questioned, his voice higher than he'd expected it to be. She'd laughed at his jokes before. She'd smiled at his voices before. Perhaps it was enough to shake her from her stupor? Or maybe her fall had been worse than he'd thought and he should check her for injuries.

She didn't laugh. She didn't smile. Just looked wide-eyed and confused at him while his cheeks felt hot and he was grateful no one could see him blush anymore.

"You look as though you lost a fight with a dusty curtain," he added by way of explanation.

Still, no chuckle or smirk came to her. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect. She seemed to be even more upset than she had been before as her fingers tugged and pulled at the skirt of her dress.

"It's nothing I can't handle," she whispered, sitting back and looking away from him.

He didn't like that. He didn't like any of this. He didn't like feeling how much space was between them, he didn't like when she didn't smile, he didn't like the way she picked at her dress, or how it looked, or how he felt, or wondering why she wasn't happy, or thinking he knew, or wanting to fix it! The list went on and on.

He had to do something. The time had come to do something. Fortunately, he had figured out a way to do it so long as she wasn't too stubborn! Watching her there now as he drained his tea, he had the feeling that she might have reached a state where she wouldn't mind a little assistance. But he'd have to be quick about it. He knew her schedule and he knew the moment he set his cup down he'd have five, maybe ten, minutes before she was cleaned up and off to her next task. So he hurried…

He finished his tea and set the cup aside for her to wash, then strode out of the room. He didn't return to his Tower. He would in a few moments, but for now he went to the floor she was currently working on, to the next of the rooms that she would clean until it sparkled.

The question was how to give her something without her knowing that he'd done it. The answer he'd figured out a while ago was not to give it at all, but rather to let her find it.

In his mind, he recalled a memory he had of her from those times he'd watched her in the cauldron. In the memory, she sat behind a pile of books with her hair pulled back. She wore a blue dress. It had been intricate, there was lace on the bodice, a pattern he couldn't quite remember and he was certain there was a skirt with it, he just hadn't seen as she'd been sitting down. It didn't matter. He didn't want to recreate the dress, just the color and cut of the bodice. He wanted something familiar, something that she might look upon and remind her of home so that she'd be so entranced she'd have to put it on. He could have put a compulsion spell on it to do that for him, and he wasn't above doing that if necessary, but he wanted to try without first. He wanted to see what would happen.

Time ticked on. He had only a few moments left and with that time he worked his magic, spun a dress out of thin air the color of the sky with an undershirt white as snow and blue shoes to match. It was a simple dress; more than a peasant's scraps but less than what she wore now. He had no doubt it would fit her; magic was funny like that. But he did wonder if it was enough to make her put it on. He hid the clothes inside the closet of the room, next to some of the old moth-eaten ones that belonged to the previous owner of the room she'd be coming to any minute, then used his magic to take himself up to the Tower so that they wouldn't cross paths.

He hadn't run there, but he felt as though he had. His heart pounded inside his chest as he bolted for the cauldron and summoned the image of the room. His trap good and set, there was plenty to do, but he couldn't take his eyes off the cauldron, couldn't stop his curiosity. The moment she walked into the room, he forgot to breathe. He knew her schedule. He knew how she did things and moved about the room to clean, but when he saw her open the curtains first instead of last he began to hope that she might any second open that closet and see what he'd left her. But instead, she followed her routine perfectly, aside from those curtains. She stripped the bed, setting the sheets and blankets aside for the wash, she righted the furniture, arranging it so that it looked welcoming and inviting, then she did the dusting. The scrubbing of the floor was the last thing she'd do, right before…

He bit himself as she opened the closet doors. He didn't know what he'd expected, perhaps that she might open the closet and be awestruck by his experiment? That her eyes would water and she'd gasp with delight or wonder, that she'd smile again?! All he knew was that he felt disappointed the moment she opened the closet and nothing special happened. She rifled, just as she always rifled, preparing to air everything out and wash what she could.

And then there it was. The reaction he wanted. Her eyes didn't fill with tears, she didn't drop and shatter a teacup dramatically, and her eyes didn't go wide. But he saw her open her mouth in what had to be a gasp. She seemed to slow as she looked over what she'd found before her, looked suspiciously at the new garment surrounded by the old.

"Take it…" he muttered as she reached out to run her hands over it. And that was when the spell was broken. It was his own words that had done it, that made him pause to consider what he was doing and what he was planning on doing. He was watching her. In the midst of all the work he had to do, he'd just spent damn near an hour watching his maid clean a room and find a dress. And what was he going to do now that she'd found it? Was he going to watch her try it on? He could barely stand to watch her when she'd gotten upset of the curtains, was he really the kind of man to sit there and watch her undress and dress?

It was almost painful to wave his hand over the cauldron and watch her vanish. He wanted to watch. He wanted to see. Not to infringe upon her privacy, it made his stomach turn to know some wizards used their magic for those purposes. Dark One or not, he had some honor to him. But he did want to know if she was going to take it or not. He wanted to know how it fit, how it looked. He wanted to see her smile again.

And on that note, he turned away. He went to his worktable and began doing what he did best: magic. He rolled his eyes at his behavior, at the way he felt like she'd gotten him all twisted up inside and the way he kept thinking that he'd have to be surprised. His excitement over that was nearly enough to make him go back and start watching again. Damn thoughts…he practically threw the knife he was using onto the table as he rubbed his head. There was no way to win this. If he sat here and continued to work, it was because he wanted to be surprised by her. If he got up and went to the cauldron to watch it was to find out if he'd made her day better. No matter what he did he would lose…

So he wouldn't do either.

He knew her schedule. She had a few hours before she was done with her work and began to prepare dinner. He could remove temptation entirely just by going downstairs and sitting at his wheel and spinning. He could empty his mind, get these thoughts, the excitement, the panic he felt out, and just exist without her for a few hours. Yes, that was the best thing he could do now. Something for himself.

But his plan backfired. He expected to be alone in the Great Room, with her off cleaning or wearing her new dress or doing whatever it was she did…reading perhaps. But he was halfway to the wheel when he realized the fireplace was lit and sensed movement in the chair beside it. Unpredictable as ever, it appeared she'd had the same thought that he had and quit work early. And he should have commented on that. He should have made some statement about not paying her to sit there and read the book, but he felt himself break out into a cold sweat when he realized…

She was wearing the dress.

Cora would have turned for him to see it. She would have squared her shoulders and drawn his attention to her with a smile. Belle didn't need all that. She didn't need to stand and she didn't need to twirl. She just had to sit there, wearing a simple blue dress that brought out the color of her eyes; a ray of blue light against his red chair. He'd had an idea of how she might look in it from the memory he had. But it paled in comparison. His idea was nothing compared to how she looked. She was so beautiful she made his mouth go dry. It fit her just the way he wanted it to and yet not the way he'd needed it to. It followed her curves a little too perfectly, though her shoulders were now covered it dipped just a little lower than her gown had in the front and the parting of the blouse led his eyes down to the lace that held the bodice together, and he realized that with one pull of that string he could-

He jumped when the clock chimed. But he didn't need to worry that she'd noticed, it was the first time he realized that she'd been staring at him all the while he'd stared at her and she'd jumped too. And as she looked around, doing her best to get her bearings back, he took advantage of the opportunity to pretend as though nothing had happened, and went to sit by his spinning wheel. He wouldn't say anything to her. He couldn't. For the first time in a long while, he didn't trust what would come out of his mouth. Spinning was the proper outlet. It always had been. Temptingly beautiful as she was, he needed to get back to his work, and so did she.

But work for her meant dinner, and it was still too early. Whether he wanted to or not, as the wheel rotated before him, he found himself looking back at her as she wiggled deeper into his chair and pulled her book back onto her lap.

She was smiling again.

It made him smile too.

He wasn't being as careful with her as he'd planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was writing Moments, I had the sense to recognize that even though there might be future flashbacks with Rumple and Belle that would need added along as I went, Belle receiving the blue dress wasn't something I could skip over. I knew we might see it in a later episode, but chose to write it anyway telling myself it could be there as a placeholder, at least, if it was needed in the future. Looking back, I'm glad that I wrote it the way I wrote it. So much so that I'm glad we never got to see it in the series because I think if I had to replace my version of how she got it with anything A&E would have done, I'd have cried. I would have done it! Make no mistake! But I'd have cried.
> 
> Thank you to RolfB and Jenigweve for your very kind comments on the last chapter. I hope you'll enjoy seeing this "moment" from Rumple's perspective. I had a lot of fun writing in his growing attraction for her here in many ways because by this point I wasn't just going for "she's pretty" and "I like it when she smiles". By this point, I was aiming to have all kinds of attraction at least in development. That really came through in this chapter for me. We don't just see the physical (you are pretty) attraction, but mental attraction (he's noted she likes to read and keep her mind busy), sexual attraction (yeah, he knows what would happen if he pulls that string), and even an attraction to her personality (he has respect for her boldness). I wanted to show that he is drawn to her in every way humanly possible. It's all part of getting that layering going! Peace and Happy Reading!


	116. An Easy Out

He had to be more careful around her. Giving her the dress was supposed to be something harmless and helpful, something new for her to wear and enjoy since her old gown was falling apart. It was designed to be simple. And yet she was stunning in it. So stunning he'd had a hard time taking his eyes off of her in the days that followed. It made her happy, effected her attitude to the point that she appeared to be glowing and that light she let off…it was addictive. Soon he found himself doing the same trick with some other things just to see that glow again. He granted her a couple of pairs of shoes, an apron or two, and more dresses, each one different, each one simpler than the last, just to be safe. But he discovered it didn't matter what she wore. Simple or not, she was radiant in anything. And admitting that he had thoughts like that about someone who lived so close, after the fiascoes with his other maids, was dangerous. But at least it gave him some warning. At least he was able to recognize that he had those thoughts and come to the conclusion that the best thing to do about them…was leave.

Distance. Distance was the best thing he could do. He took refuge first in his bedroom each night, seeking a quiet place where he knew there was no chance she would disturb him. After several nights of doing nothing but spinning, he had finally sat back in his chair, and let the Seer speak to him. It was a crazy thing that little power of his. Just when he was coming to think he understood and even controlled it, everything seemed to have gone haywire with it. He couldn't get a vision of Belle to save his life, save for the one he carried in his mind of her in that blue dress. However, night after night, visions of other things, important things, came to him. The Seer wouldn't give him an answer about Belle, but she did grant him an escape. Soon he found himself going out on short trips around the Kingdom again, making deals, happily leaving Belle behind. Sometimes, when he left, he hoped that she'd run away. Either for the thrill of the hunt or to put more distance between them, he wasn't sure. All he really knew was that he enjoyed being away, he enjoyed collecting, and when he returned, she was always there waiting for him with a clean table and supper in hand. He hated to admit it, but sometimes that only made the going away even better.

She was a perfectionist. And he didn't know if he was annoyed by that, or relieved. Or if it was both. He liked to think it was annoyance that drove him to his bedroom at night, that forced him to close his eyes and focus on the Seer and the future. That was usually where he became grateful for her, because that was when he came home with something spectacular.

He needed the be alone again tonight. Though he felt like he'd only just returned from one trip, she'd worn the blue dress again tonight at dinner, and he couldn't get the image out of his head. Her eating by the fire with rosy cheeks and a book in her lap was a sight not easy to forget. So much so that when he sat down in his chair by the window and closed his eyes, that was the first image that came to mind.

Frustrated, he cleared his mind, breathed deep…and pictured the smirk on her face when he'd sat down for dinner, and she realized he was home.

Not helpful.

He bit his tongue, focused on the pain, cast his vision to the future…and found a forbidden image of Belle, laughing at something he'd said.

Irritating.

He sat up, readjusted himself in his seat, cleared his throat, and took another deep breath. This time, he wasn't going to let himself think of her. This time…

This time a vision came to him. A vision so clear that at first he thought it was a memory for he knew the place he was in well enough. Camelot. But this, this was no memory he'd ever had before, nor a memory that belonged to another Dark One. It couldn't be. The images that flashed in front of his eyes found him in the woods of Camelot, standing before Excalibur sheathed in its stone. He watched as a man with dark hair and dressed in chain mail pulled it free from its prison.

The man's name was Arthur. He knew that plain as he knew it was evening. And he was now King Arthur…but King of what? Images passed in front of his eyes.

_King Arthur returning to a Kingdom that was broken, in shambles because no true King had been there for a very long time. King Arthur, down on one knee with a woman's hand between his own. Guinevere, the woman he would one day call wife and Camelot would call Queen. King Arthur before a rounded table where knights of his Kingdom sat, no one at a head, no one at a right for they were all important to him and given equal status. Or so he said, for he could see one that was more important than the others. A tall dark-skinned man sat in his chair, admiring the King and Queen, applauding and smiling at them both. King Arthur, alone in a tower, Merlin's Tower, looking through books, rummaging through potions. And then a sketch of his dagger, Merlin's own design. He was searching for it, for the missing piece of his sword. And in the background, the woman he'd married, unhappy, sitting alone, talking to the Knight who Arthur loved most._

_"The dagger is only a day's ride from here. By this time tomorrow, I will hold it in my hand."_

_The scene changed once more, and now he saw the Queen talking with the Knight again only now he knew that it wasn't just Arthur who loved him most…but someone else as well. For as the Queen spoke in the dead of night with the same Knight, he could see something between them that he'd seen before in his visions, it was a cord. Between them was an invisible rope that neither could see, connecting the pair of them, the meaning obvious to him as it always was. The King's wife and his favorite Knight…unrequited love. Interesting._

_"I'm going to find the dagger myself!" Guinevere explained to him. "I broke into Merlin's tower and took this, a magic gauntlet, it has shown me the true location of the dagger. He would never think to use it because he believes the dagger will be his strength, and this gauntlet, it leads you to a person's greatest weakness. So, I'm going to finish this damned quest and get back the man I love."_

_It led her to a vault, one that Nimue had crafted for herself, the first vault. It was the one that he'd appeared out of once. Guinevere and Lancelot gained access to it. Inside there was a rush of darkness. Then a doorway made of dark wood and iron. And then the dagger sitting upon a gray pedestal with black tentacles keeping it off the ground._

He opened his eyes with a gasp, his heart racing, his mind, for once, on something other than Belle. No, now his mind was on the Seer, her words were ringing loud and true in his mind.

_"The future is a puzzle with many pieces to be sorted. In time, you will learn to separate what can be, from what will be."_

Yes. Sometimes he was better at that skill than he was at other times. But this particular vision would have been the best to practice on for he knew that some of what he'd seen had come to pass and some was the future. The vault, the Queen and the Knight going after the dagger, even Arthur's proposed trip to find the dagger, he was very confident that all that was to take place in the future. The very near future! It was disturbing. His dagger in a place that it shouldn't be, at risk…that was something he couldn't allow, something that he would have to fix.

It may have been disturbing, but there was something far more shocking that he'd seen in that vision, something he hadn't been prepared for. It was at the root of the entire vision. Excalibur was no longer in its stone. And he needed to get to Camelot.

But he wasn't about to do it half-assed, especially not with the dagger at stake.

He spent the night and most of the next day in preparation, staring into his cauldron, looking into the past through his crystal ball, identifying key players, and how they interacted. Camelot was not the Kingdom it had been in Merlin's time. Far from it. But it also wasn't a Kingdom that was entirely broken either. And from what he learned that wasn't Arthur's doing, but his wife's. In every image he'd seen of the pair that was the common thread. While Arthur was in Merlin's Tower researching, Guinevere was out among the people, planting seeds. While Arthur was obsessing over the missing tip to his sword, Guinevere was overseeing the building of homes. As Arthur poured over books and maps and writings that he would kill to get his hands on, Guinevere kept the Kingdom together, she oversaw judgments on criminals, watched training exercises and participated with their small army. She even attended meetings with the knights, including Lancelot.

Though Arthur was King, it was clear his obsession for uniting the dagger and the sword had separated him from the Kingdom he was to care for and left his Queen in charge. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have a problem with that, given the remarkable job that she was doing. But Arthur was after the dagger, and his vision showed Guinevere going after it for him because she was tired of his hunting. He had no doubt that if she got it, she'd hand it right over to Arthur, and that was not a man he wanted to have his dearest possession.

So, that day, in addition to making sure the dagger was in his boot every other second, he also turned to the Chronicles. He checked through Nimue's scattered writings to learn all he could about the inner workings of the vaults he'd never needed to personally investigate. In his mind, that vault was where everything was meant to come together. That was where he would stop Guinevere and her Knight in shining armor. It felt meant to be.

For a few brief moments, he thought he might go off early and simply leave Belle behind to discover that he was gone. It was the Queen's Birthday tonight and he wanted to investigate the swordless stone and the vault. But he hadn't done something like that to Belle yet, and when he tried to do it, he found he couldn't. That was how he found himself cursing under his breath as he walked down to the kitchen's where Belle was bound to be working. He had to prepare himself for visits like these. Remind himself not to be too comfortable or inviting, certainly not to take too much interest. And, for the sake of all the Dark One's who had come before him, not to let himself stare at her! Get in, get it done, get out, that was the best way to deal with his maid.

"I'm off for a few days, dearie!" he announced sneaking up behind her. "Try not to drown in dust while I'm gone!"

She jumped when he entered, her back had been to him. It appeared she'd been stirring something over the fire that sloshed and smelled so good he was tempted to stay for dinner. If he had to guess, it was soup. There was a cookbook laying out on the table, if he could angle himself just right, he might be able to see what she was making.

"Where to this time?" she asked, setting a ladle aside before wiping her hands on an apron he'd left out for her. He tried to remain focused on the ladle and not the object tied about her waist. Ladle meant soup. Soup meant warm. Warm meant comfortable. Suddenly the only place he really wanted to be was upstairs eating with her again.

But that wasn't going to happen because he had a dagger to protect. And that took precedence over her cooking. It took precedence over everything.

"Ever heard of a quaint little Kingdom called…Camelot?" he answered.

Of course, she had. Her eyes widened the instant that he mentioned the name. For someone who had been trained to be a Queen, he would have thought she'd learn how to bluff a little bit better.

"Yes…yes, of course! Camelot is…"

"Don't get your hopes up! You're not coming," he snapped before she could come up with a word to describe it. He hadn't needed her response, but it did tell him one important thing. While he'd been busy making arrangements to get back to Baelfire, Camelot had been making a name for itself, which meant that Arthur hadn't pulled Excalibur from the stone yesterday. Nimue would be very disappointed, but that would only have been a problem if he cared what she thought. All he wanted was to keep the dagger safe so he could get back to his son.

"When should I expect you back?" she asked with a knowing smirk. It drove him mad. "Knowing smirks" suggested there was something to be known, and he couldn't figure out what she knew. What was there to know? There was no reason for a smile like that, not now.

"When I get back!" he responded with a laugh of his own. "Knowing smirks" irritated him. Giving riddles and half-answers irritated her. Fair was fair.

Her smirk disappeared as she sighed and glanced over at whatever she had cooking over the fire. "Well…I made dinner. When will you be leaving?"

It was tempting to tell her after dinner. It was tempting to go and sit upstairs with her one last time and watch her eat and then depart to take care of business. It was tempting. And that was why he waved his hands in the air, let loose a laugh, and stated "now!" before allowing himself to be taken up in a cloud of magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ushers us into the Camelot chapters. They were fun because they were an interesting combination of a season 3 episode and a season 5 episode. The story flows fairly well together with few issues. Up next we get to see the return of a fan favorite!
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for your awesome comments on the last chapter. Glad you enjoyed all that progress (as well as Rumple drooling a bit). As you can see here not only are we entering into Camelot, but we're also entering into a new phase with Rumple that I like to call "Boi, you got it bad!" I think even he realizes he's in that phase, he's just trying hard not to admit it. Peace and Happy Reading!


	117. The Sword Not in the Stone

The first place he had to go when he arrived in Camelot seemed obvious. It was to the one spot he hadn't returned to in over a hundred years. It was a stone boulder that sat in the middle of a forest. He'd been to Camelot on a number of occasions since Nimue had first told him her story and tasked him to find a way into Merlin's lair. Because of her "task", almost every time he'd visited, he'd always been staring up at the Tower, never able to get inside. This place, however, he'd been to one time, the very time that Nimue had explained her origins to him. It looked almost identical now as it had back then. It was still the middle of a forest, the middle of nowhere, there was still a stream nearby, lots of foliage that had grown up over the years, and one boulder sitting inconspicuously in the midst of it all. The only difference between now and then, was that the last time he'd been here, the boulder had a sword driven into it. Now, there was a clean gapping portion where the stone had once slid into its rocky sheath.

"So, Camelot has found her King…" he muttered, looking the stone over.

The idea of Camelot finding it's King was a very interesting conundrum, considering he'd just had a vision of the Queen and the Knight, Lancelot, sitting on the throne, a cord of love binding them together. Now…how was that possible if Arthur was the true King? But, perhaps even more important, if the dagger controlled him, what could the rest of the sword do?

He hadn't planned on making a trip to the stone forge where Excalibur had been made and the Dark One born, but his questions made it a necessity, especially the question about the sword. The rest of the information he was happy to discover on his own time, but he couldn't go into this blind, not considering the history he shared with that sword. He needed help. He needed her help. Again.

Over the years, he prided himself on how little he'd had to call on her or the others for assistance. Going to that forge now, and forcing Nimue's name to appear on the dagger, was not a conversation he was overjoyed to have.

"Excalibur has been pulled from its stone," he informed the woman looking at him with contempt.

"I've seen." Her response was short, and irritated. Once upon a time, he might have cared about that. But now that he held the title of strongest Dark One, he wasn't particularly bothered by it. If she wanted to have a short one-sided conversation, he could do that. He'd been practicing on Belle.

"What was Merlin's prophecy concerning the sword."

"That it could only be pulled from the stone by the one true King of Camelot, a true hero."

"Those were his exact words?"

"No one knows."

"No one or you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone, boy."

"Answer the question, _girl_ ," he snapped back. Nimue was a woman who regarded herself with great pride. He expected attitude from her, and he was prepared to give it right back. He was the powerful one, he hadn't gotten here by playing games when the stakes were this high.

"The Apprentice might know," she finally sighed. "But seeing as how you left him alone in the cabin, alive, I might add-"

"And he's it, then?" he interrupted. He wasn't about to let her go off on a tangent concerning the Apprentice or any tasks she perceived as his. "The Apprentice is the only one who would know the prophecy?"

"He would. Merlin saw the future but very rarely explained it or spoke of it to anyone, including me. On the rare occasions he wrote them down, they stayed in the Tower. The only person who would have a copy is the Apprentice, unless of course, you've managed to get into his Tower, but we both know you haven't."

"I've more important things to do with my time."

"Ah yes…finding your son and eying that maid of yours in the cauldron."

He opened his mouth to respond, but caught himself. That was the problem with having a conversation with someone who shared one's mind. She knew exactly the kind of things to get him riled up. But he was the one that could choose not to let her do that. He chose not to comment on her attempt to regain control of the conversation and instead move on and send her back to the depths of his mind as fast as he could.

"I've had a vision of my own," he announced. "If the person who pulls the stone is the one true King of Camelot, then why did I see Arthur pull forth the blade but his wife sitting on the throne in the future?"

Nimue frowned and gave the closest thing to a shrug he'd ever seen her make. "I'd say the only one who can answer that is you…and time, of course, a concept you should be well familiar with by now."

Another snark that he wasn't going to break to. She served him, not the other way around.

"Merlin fashioned the dagger from the broken tip of Excalibur…the sword has no bearing on me?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

He didn't respond. He didn't need to. He just had to stare her down and think about demanding her to respond. After that, it was only a matter of time until she sighed and though it was harder to see in the dark, he thought she might have rolled her eyes as well.

"I dare say if it did, you would have felt it by now."

Not exactly an answer like he wanted but close enough. In fact, she had spoken exactly what he himself had been thinking concerning that question, but it was nice to have confirmation. The relationship he had with the dagger was a mystical one, it was a connection he felt all the time whether it was safely in his possession or his son's or that wretched princess from Arendelle. If there was some kind of connection to the sword, he should have felt it in some way. And yet so far…nothing. Small favors, he supposed.

"Why did I see a copy of the dagger in your vault?"

"That's not a question I can answer for I wasn't the Dark One who placed it there," she was quick to answer. "Only that Dark One can answer your question, not I."

And since he didn't know the name of "that Dark One" he couldn't summon him here or now. He'd just have to hope that when he reached his final destination, he, or she, was willing to talk and put answers in his head. And as for Nimue…

"Then I've no further use for you," he growled, banishing her from his sight with little more than a thought.

Nimue was of no use to him. She hadn't told him anything that he hadn't already known or assumed himself. But that was the way of the Dark Ones he carried with him in his head. He shouldn't have been surprised. If he wanted answers, he should have gone right to the source. Merlin's Tower was as he'd always known it. Towering above everything in Camelot and heavily guarded with magic he wasn't even going to try and penetrate today. In truth, the only thing really different about the Tower now from the Tower then was the light that in the upstairs window. Someone had gained entrance, but it wasn't him. If he had to guess he'd wager it was the King and Queen. He'd seen them there in his vision, and in another the Queen had admitted she'd taken the Gauntlet from the Tower. He wasn't pleased with that development. Prior to this moment, the Tower had been shut off from the world and its secrets safe. Now that people could come and go, it meant so could the secrets. And while that certainly gave him a loophole to getting into the tower he didn't like that it meant that any of Merlin's things could be removed and scattered to the wind. If he couldn't have access, he would much prefer no one have access, and keep all his things right where he knew they'd be.

But, of course, imagining all that was silly at this point. Excalibur was no longer in the stone, and the Tower had been breached, whether he liked it or not. Now the only thing he could hope to do was gain access to anything that was brought out of the tower. Fortunately, he knew where one of those objects was going to be.

For once, he walked through the streets of Camelot wearing the glamour that Zoso had used when he'd first met him, it was the glamour that allowed him to appear as if he were a normal man. Normally he didn't bother with such things. But this was Camelot, the Dark One was born here and the war between Nimue and Merlin was a well-known tale. Getting spotted here would be more than a little slip-up, and if he wanted to get his hands on that Gauntlet and keep his own dagger safe, then he couldn't risk word getting out to the Queen and her Knight that the Dark One had been spotted roaming the forest. So he shed his scales for the time being, grabbed a stick from the ground, recalled the magic from his ankle and limped about, playing the role of peasant once more. It was frightening how easily his body recalled the actions of it all.

Belle had known of Camelot. Knowing her, she'd probably read about it in a book. Smart as she was, she'd probably reacted the way she had not because she'd been here or seen it for herself but rather because she was familiar with its legends. If she could see it now…

There was nothing wrong with it, not exactly. It was fine. A thriving young Kingdom under new rule. But it was hardly the stuff of legend at the moment. The town that now stood close to the base of Merlin's Tower was quaint. Adorable, even. It was little houses and businesses, shops and taverns, and of course a fine town square. It was late, but people were still out, dancing about, enjoying the last dregs of alcohol, sweeping something off the ground…white roses? No. Middlemist Flowers. Nimue would have known them anywhere. She was the reason they were in Camelot, after all. He walked the streets, keeping his head low, slowing as he found his way around groups of people so he could listen to their conversations. Some things never changed. Royals tried to keep things secret, but that only meant the entire town knew. Sometimes what they knew was truth, sometimes only guesses. He was pleased to hear no one seemed to know the truth of Excalibur, as far as they were concerned the sword was whole and complete. And that meant the dagger was safe. But what they knew also wasn't the full story. He gathered bits and pieces of information, placing them with the images his vision had given him until he had a full picture.

Tonight had been Guinevere's birthday. They'd had a wonderful celebration, the King had delivered her favorite flower, Middlemists, to her in heaping piles, and the pair had danced. But the talk of the town wasn't the King and Queen, but rather Lancelot and Guinevere. He'd been about to see the cord in his vision that bound them together, but it seemed that he wasn't the only one to sense their connection. Some saw the way they looked at each other and had suspicions, others thought it was quite the scandal, and still, others thought it was a very romantic thing indeed, while many felt sorry for the pair.

Still, one conversation proved to be more important than any of the others. A group of three women, discussing the Queen and her relationship with the Knight were arguing over it just as nearly everyone else was doing. The only difference was these women had information he could use.

"It's sad! It's her birthday, and the King showers her with flowers but shows up only for a single dance. I've got it on good authority it was Lancelot that arranged those flowers, just as he was the one to keep her company through tonight. It's the woman's birthday, and the King has retired early, summoning his Knights to leave early tomorrow for another quest! You know that means, he'll not be warming her bed tonight."

"Well, neither will she," one of the women snorted. "I've just come from the well and as I was coming back, don't you know it, I ran into Lancelot and Guinevere myself. They were talking about going out on a quest of their own tonight. You know what that means."

The women burst into laughter and he moved away. No, as a matter of fact, they didn't know what it meant. But he did. Some of what he'd seen in his vision was future and some was past. But at this moment, he knew the future was becoming the present, if not the past. In his vision Arthur had said he was going after the tip of Excalibur, and that was what had prompted Guinevere to steal the Gauntlet and take Lancelot to the place they thought it was…the Dark One Vault. He was falling behind and running out of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was overall a fun writing exercise. It was a really good example of the fact that sometimes a story helps to write itself. When I was writing I hadn't actually meant for this to be a chapter all on its own, but merely for these events to appear as a few paragraphs of intro for the next chapter. But then I started to write it, and his research started to grow, and what was just a few lines of dialogue with Nimue became a full blown conversation and well...here we are.
> 
> Many thanks to RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter. I hope that you'll also enjoy this nice little unplanned bonus chapter. Unplanned as it was, the icing on the cake was Nimue. I love any chapter that I get to write for Nimue! If I had to name a dynamic that I miss a lot from the first couple of Rumple fictions it would be Rumple and Nimue and how their relationship has changed. This was another time we get to see Rumple in control of her and I was super happy to get to check in with her again even if the conversation was short. Peace and Happy Reading!


	118. Staying Ahead of the Future

The Dark One Vault wasn't far, Guinevere and Lancelot would be there soon enough, even if they didn't know where they were going. So, with the pair on their way, he used his magic and beat them to the vault. Merlin's Tower he'd returned to time and time again since learning about it, and the conversation he'd had with Nimue at the forge was not the first he'd had, but this vault…it was the first time he'd been back since he'd become the Dark One. It had been well over one hundred years. Like the stone, the forest looked hardly any different. It had been pitch black when he'd first arrived here then, and other than some overgrowth, it appeared just as it always had. There was the spot he'd first seen Zoso. There was the place he'd first discovered he'd no longer needed his cane. Over to his left was the place the Dark One who had shown him water to view Baelfire had waited for him. And where he was standing now was the first place he'd caught a glimpse of Nimue. He wasn't at the forge now, but as he looked down upon the platform he'd once arisen out of, he channeled her knowledge to see it as he hadn't that night. It wasn't a platform. It was a door. There were symbols around the metal platform, symbols he'd seen in his work and in the work of the Dark Ones that came before him. But here, they were more than that. They were the key. Nimue whispered away in his ear and he reached his hand out over them, using magic to touch them: the Eye of Providence, the Pentagram, the Sun.

He stood back as the vault opened to him. How the Guinevere and Lancelot were going to get into the vault was a mystery to him, but the Seer hadn't been wrong yet. Somehow, they were going to manage. And he would be ready for them when they did.

The inside of the vault was not unlike a mining passage. In fact, it reminded him a lot of the tunnel he'd encountered at Bald Mountain, only instead of draining his magic, as Bald Mountain had, the magic he felt around him now had a signature that matched his own. There was no fairy magic here. Only very, very Dark Magic. He could feel traps that were set, he recognized them, even felt as though Nimue was warning him they were there. But they were traps meant to keep intruders out, not Dark Ones. In the end, all he needed to do was allow his own magic to flare so that their magic recognized his own and they stayed hidden from sight, and, with a little extra push, for the foreseeable future. Lancelot and Guinevere were on their way, his vision showed them getting to the dagger and he wanted the Gauntlet on her arm. He saw no reason to try and keep them out. He stopped the traps that he could and left the ones he couldn't for them to figure out. They'd never know, they'd never be grateful.

Finally, up ahead, at the end of the tunnel, he saw a door. It was the same door he'd seen in his vision. He used his magic to open it and observed as something like the surface of the water appeared behind it. It moved and flowed to an invisible current, another trick of magic put there by Nimue herself to scare people away and keep them out. He, however, was the Dark One. He knew what was on the other side. So he walked through the door with confidence, and on the other side…

Yes, this was certainly where he was supposed to be.

The vision had passed by him fast before, and the focus had been on the dagger and the pedestal, but the second he saw the world around him, a tropical paradise, he knew that it was right. It reeked of Dark Magic. And there, in the center of the room, on a gray pedestal held up by black, snake-like legs, was the dagger. Or rather…a dagger.

He let out a sigh of relief as he came closer to it and found confirmation that it wasn't his dagger. He could feel his own in his boot. Someone would have been an idiot to put it here for anyone to find, even with the traps outside set. It was a fake. And as he looked it over he was assaulted with a memory of another time, from another Dark One. His name was Lucifer, he'd set it there as a trap, a warning. The second he removed the fraudulent dagger from the pedestal, he heard a ringing in the back of his head that told him the dagger was in danger. Lucifer wasn't a fool. He'd done it this way on purpose. This way someone could take a false dagger, but the Dark One could be alerted that someone was after them and destroy them before they ever figured out the fraud and carried out the actual deed of collecting the real dagger. In his heyday, when Lucifer had set the spell, it was a very clever decoy. Now it was ancient and nearly forgotten, but still helpful. The false dagger still bore the name of Lucifer, a reminder of just how little magic it carried. For a moment, he considered leaving it alone, not risking the pair learning his name, but if he had it his way, and if Lucifer had done his job right, they would never get their hands on it. With a wave of his hand, he inscribed his own name on the blade, then placed it back in its trap and just in time it seemed. In his head, he could feel another warning, one that Nimue herself had put there telling him that someone was at one of the vaults. This vault. They were coming, coming for the dagger that they didn't realize wasn't real with Merlin's Gauntlet and a broken kingdom on their minds. Knowing his dagger was safe was reassuring, but that didn't make this trip useless. For the first time in a long time, something had been removed from Merlin's Tower, and he would take it for himself. This could work out for everyone, just so long as he was clever about it. He wanted that Gauntlet and they wanted the dagger, or at least they thought they did. They didn't know what he knew. Magic could solve anything.

He cast a quick spell to turn himself invisible just as the door opened. And then there they were. The two he'd seen in his vision. Queen Guinevere and noble knight Lancelot at her side!

"There it is!" the woman exclaimed, coming closer at a quick pace. "Excalibur will finally be complete."

She was excited, and he stood by the little table and the fake dagger watching to see what would happen as she extended her hand to take it and-

Magic pulsed through the air and through him, magic that was tied to him but not set by him blasted the couple back so that they landed a dozen feet away on their backs. The magic was not unlike what Merlin had used at his tower, only, if he had to guess, and he didn't because he knew, it worked in reverse. He was free to take the dagger because he was the Dark One. No one else was. Well now, that was a handy little trick.

"Not exactly a sword in the stone, but it still does the trick!" he announced, allowing his spell to disintegrate and show him to them. He laughed as the pair noticed him but didn't miss a beat. They rose to their feet and pointed their swords in unison, showing off that cord he'd seen in his vision that they were either ignorant to or purposefully ignoring. Given their comfort around one another, and their loyalty to Arthur, he'd guess they were blissfully unaware of one another's feelings. But there were ways around that, just as there were ways around those swords. With a wave of his hand, the blades were gone, and the pair looked at each other with worry and shock. It surprised even him. Those couldn't have been the only weapons on them, or else the King greatly underestimated his knights! Not that he'd worry about another weapon, he was more concerned with what the girl was wearing now that the sword was gone: the glove that had led them here. He could feel the magic coming off of it from here. It was powerful, and he wanted it for himself. The question was how to get it. "So, that's how you found this place, Merlin's gauntlet. That's quite a powerful object, at least for a wizard stuck in a tree."

"That dagger is Arthur's birthright, and you will surrender it to us," Guinevere declared bravely.

He smiled. Was that what she thought? Birthright? Had he inherited it? Or was it something else? The Gauntlet suggested the latter.

"So, that's King Arthur's weakness, is it?"

The girl didn't respond, just held her head up high and eyed him with suspicion at his knowledge. A sweet thing to be sure when he could do so much better than know about magical objects.

"So that must make you Guinevere. Sadly, I can't give you what you want, though I might be willing to part with the next best thing, assuming, of course, you're willing to make a deal for that gauntlet."

"What's the next best thing to completing a magical sword?" Lancelot questioned sarcastically, unbelieving. The dear Queen was just silent, she didn't respond one way or another, but her gaze told him that worked in his favor. Now why would that be? Was it because perhaps the Good Queen didn't truly want the sword to be whole again?

"Making it appear like it's been completed," he answered the Knight. "With this…"

From his workshop back home, he summoned into his hand a small vial of fuchsia grains that Jefferson had once retrieved from him. "Enchanted sand from the mystical Isle of Avalon." It was powerful magic, and it had taken a lot for Jefferson to retrieve it. He hated the idea of giving it away, but he was willing to part with it for a price. And much to his delight…the Queen appeared willing to bargain. "One pinch of this can 'fix' anything."

"Even Excalibur?" she questioned.

He smiled. Perhaps Arthur's Queen was not as loyal as he thought. "Your husband need never know. After all, what's one little secret if it means getting your husband back? Assuming, of course, that's, uh, still what you want," he stated, looking between the pair of them before he began to circle. He was examining something. That cord of love they shared was stronger now than it was in the vision. Something had happened on this trip that had strengthened their bond. Did they sense it? Would Arthur?

"And why should I trust you?" Guinevere called out, turning to meet him.

Well now, that was a question that he hadn't considered. Nor had he planned on it being asked. He didn't have a great answer for her, only a shot in the dark based on the tether he could see flashing between her and Lancelot. And a vision.

_A vision of sitting at a table with the pair of them when they were older. There were children there. They belonged to both Guinevere and Lancelot. All but one pale little boy with sandy hair who couldn't stop talking with the children and rambling about being in a castle. He felt a great affection in his chest for that little boy. Arthur was nowhere to be found as they ate and yet, he felt a hand wrap warmly around his elbow as they had dinner together. But as he turned to respond to the gesture..._

The vision faded before he could see who it was...

How…interesting.

"Because I know what happens when a woman's heart is torn between duty and desire," he dared to guess as he moved around them and concentrated on the little bottle. "And believe me, it never ends well."

He was trying to get the vision back, trying to see the person who had touched him, who was eating with the three of them like they were old friends. But nothing sparked. It was as if the Seer was keeping a secret from him.

"Please, Guinevere," he heard Lancelot whisper affectionately behind him. "Don't listen to this demon."

Demon! That was a new name. Harsh. Interesting that one day they might be friends.

"I will accept your deal," the Queen declared.

He forgot the vision and instead laughed as he spun back to look at her removing the Gauntlet from her hand and Lancelot looking him over with distrusting eyes.

"Good girl!" He didn't know how they'd ever get to be friends, but handing him the Gauntlet certainly would go a long way for that. Perhaps…so would a little warning. "But be careful. Love is a weapon, dearie. The most dangerous weapon of all, which means the pain you should worry about isn't the kind inflicted by a broken sword, but the kind that comes, from a broken heart…" he stared up at Lancelot as they spoke, suddenly aware of how much time there was between now and the vision he'd had.

Guinevere took off the Gauntlet, and he took it as Lancelot snatched the bottle from his fingers and said, "Let's go!" to his Queen. The Knight's eyes were on him the entire way as they backed out of the room, and he was graced with one more small flash of a vision.

_Watching Lancelot and Guinevere ride through the streets of Camelot with their children as he watched in the crowd. They both wore crowns._

His Queen indeed. He couldn't wait to see how their future would play out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bitch to write and frankly I'm not really happy with how it came out. If felt like there were a lot of details in this scene that were just too much considering the small part it played. I felt like it left us all with a lot of questions and not so many answers. I can honestly say I did my best with it, but was it enough? I'll let you be the judge. But hey, good news, we know that while Camelot ends here, the story of the Gauntlet is only just beginning.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter. I'm interested to hear what you'll think about this one. There was one thing I liked about this chapter. Those visions...it perfectly illustrates the beauty of waiting until after the entire series was finished to write Rumple's side of the story. Readers from Moments Beyond will recognize that vision he has at the table and watching Guinevere and Lancelot ride through the streets, you'll recognize who the sandy hair boy that he feels affection for is, and the person who wraps their hands around his arm...well...we all know who that is. Truly, at this point, I think even he has idea...nay...perhaps a hope of who that might be. I think that's what he's so desperate to recall the image but also why the Seer chooses not to show it to him. Just some food for thought. Peace and Happy Reading!


	119. Unexplained Curiosity

When he left, he'd assumed that his trip to Camelot would take a few days. He hadn't expected he'd be back that very night. If he'd known that he wouldn't have told Belle he was going away, merely left her in the night without her ever having to know. He could announce his arrival in the morning but then…living in a vast castle without having someone know you were there did have its advantages. He'd trusted her on her own once with Robin Hood and regretted that decision even if he felt it had turned out the way it was meant to. It dawned on him as he returned that there were going to be more times like this throughout his life, times that he was going to have to leave and be busy while she was left alone in the castle and he was going to have to trust her. But trust was a lot easier with knowledge. So far, his knowledge told him that she was a risk who could betray him. He wondered if that was how it was always to be.

For that reason alone, when he concluded his business in Camelot, he returned to his tower and kept his arrival a secret. When he cast his eyes to the cauldron, he could see that his maid had done nothing out of the ordinary that night. The kitchen was clean of whatever dinner she'd made for them and eaten by herself, and she was laying in her cot in the dungeons. A sad picture it was too. She'd been here long enough, he figured she might be able to work a bit better with a nice bed…but he'd already showed her mercy where Robin was concerned and given her enough clothes that she was starting to garner quite the collection. And worst of all, she was smart enough to know all that. The last thing he needed to do was show her more favor. Maybe, one day, she would earn a bedroom, but not today.

He spent his next day in his workshop. He checked on Belle periodically throughout the day, curious as to what she would do with a day on her own. In between watching her, he worked on the Gauntlet. He was able to add his potion to it, the one that would recall it to him should he be separated from it. He was able to use it on the Gauntlet, to touch it, but he found he was unable to put it on his hand. He knew that was necessary for the magic to work, as Guinevere had demonstrated, but when he slid it on he found that it burned so much he had to remove it. Not even his magic could cool the hurt he felt with it on. He should have known. Merlin was a crafty one. He hadn't known him, but he had known Nimue. Anything he'd placed a spell on to prevent her from using would work on him as well.

But he wasn't about to give up the ability to use it over a glitch. He knew better than to give up. All spells and curses could be broken in time, he just needed the time required to break it. And perhaps to do a little experimentation on it. He was persistent. Almost as persistent as his maid.

When he got frustrated, he found that he was delighted to watch her, though he admitted to feeling some disappointment as well. He'd hoped to catch her doing something or other he might be able to lord over her; something that might curb some of her attitude. But, unfortunately, he found she was diligent in her work. She stuck to her schedule, even in his absence. In the morning, she rose and worked on one room, like normal. She took tea by the fire, alone, but otherwise normally. Though he noted that she seemed rather bored without his company. Afterward, she cleaned another room, took her dinner in his chair by the fire, all typical behavior. Then went to bed like normal and woke up again as she always did. She could be distracted, looking over at his objects when she should have been concentrating on what she was reading, but she didn't touch. Mostly…

The worst he saw was in his own tower. She'd nearly caught him one afternoon. After making a trip to her library and taking a book she began searching for something. He watched as she climbed stairs to a tower and it wasn't until he heard the noise behind him that he realized she was nearly behind him. He grabbed the Gauntlet and cast the spell to turn himself invisible as she arrived and looked around. He was nearly giddy with excitement, holding still and watching what she might do. But in the end, all she'd done was take a quill and some ink. For a moment he dared to think she'd do something dramatic like try to write a letter to her family. But then he observed the book in her hand was on learning a new language. She'd probably just wanted some practice.

She did pause for a moment. Her eyes drifted as they did all day long to some artifact or other he happened to have out on the same desk as the paper she stole. He held his breath as he watched her fingers stretch out over the object, then lower as if to touch it…

But she didn't do it.

In the end, she snatched her hand back and held it close to her chest. She sighed as she shook her head and moved away. She took the quill and ink she'd found and moved away in a hurry. He dropped the spell and promptly hurried off to his cauldron to locate her, leaving the Gauntlet forgotten on a table. She was going down the staircase. She'd set the ink and quill aside and was going into the Great Room. The fire flared as she entered, and he watched as she went to the cabinet on the opposite side.

She was looking for something, rummaging about on the bookshelves, going through book after book, sliding them this way. He knew she was looking for something. But what. She had her book. She had quill and ink, what more…

Paper.

Going through the list in his head, it was obvious. She had what she needed to learn, she had what she needed to write, but nothing to write on. He wrote in his books all the time, but she guarded that library of hers with a keen eye. She'd probably die before she wrote in one of those books. Then again, there were other things that could kill the poor girl…like snooping about in places she didn't belong.

He watched as she turned away from the shelves and her eyes roamed over the cabinet. Beowulf's sword was stored there. He'd caught her looking at it more than a few times over these last few days. Knowing her, she was dying for an excuse…and it seemed she was finally going to take it.

She grabbed a step stool that he'd seen her use to clean, set it before the cabinet, and pulled the doors open. He wasn't going to let her go on like this much longer and he smiled at the thought of interrupting her at just the right time. It was one thing to know something about her and bring it up in conversation, it would be another thing entirely to catch her in the act…like the moment she stopped searching for her paper and hauled the sword into her hands to examine it closer.

"Don't cut yourself, dearie!" he exclaimed.

He beamed as she gasped and juggled the sword, trying to gain her composer. That had been a better entrance than he thought it would.

"I'm so, so sorry!" she exclaimed. "I thought-"

"You thought I would be away for a few more days and it would be fine to play with my…toys!" he finished for her, plucking the sword out of her grasp.

"Well, you did say that I-"

"Oh! I lied!" he declared. "I wanted to see how the mouse would play when the cat was away. And the mouse has done very little cleaning…" he stated, dragging his finger across the table. Not a spec of dust clung to his flesh. But it was no matter. She had a tendency to get riled up when he chastised the work she did. After days of watching her silently sulk around the castle and being on his own watching her, he felt the urge to be entertained. Even if the conversation was simple, he sat on the edge of his seat just to see what she'd have to say.

"It's just that you've so many things here! From all over the world…I was curious!" she exclaimed without even trying to deny his lies as he set the sword upon the table. "And…you never talk about them!"

"Well…you're the help!" he reminded himself as a small hand of guilt seized over his heart. They were his things, and she was nothing but the maid, it wasn't his job to entertain her or explain what he brought into the castle. But she, obviously, didn't feel the same way. He watched as her eyes hardened and focused on him in a way that made him feel like he'd swallowed his own tongue. She lunged at him, unexpectedly strode over to him until her face was practically in his own.

"And you're rude!" she spat in his direction.

He never liked to back down from an argument, but few were as audacious as she was to come right up to him and make their arguments. He had to fight the instinct to take a step back away from her and cower.

"Well, I can be much worse," he threatened with a sneer. He wasn't about to back down, not to his maid, not to this small slip of a woman. She was his property, she was just a living breathing artifact he'd taken away from one of his deals. He'd given her privileges while she was here, but he could take them

"But you're not," she rebelled, her eyes staring right into his own before she finally began to move again. "Look…" she hopped up onto their table and maintained her gaze, but he was grateful for the distance between them. She had a smell to her, a very distinct smell that lingered under soap and cleansers and food. The scent of lemon was distracting when she was so close. "You have seen the world, something that I have always wanted to do, yet you share nothing!"

"Mouthy, mouthy!" he observed. "And foolishly brave." Her so-called "argument" was moot. She'd brought up no new points, no different perspectives, and that meant his opinion was the same. She was his property. He didn't have to share anything with her. The fact that he was awarding her this conversation while she was attempting to pry was merely a courtesy. In truth, he only conversed with her because he needed something to do. Now, as she stared at him with disbelieving eyes, he was starting to believe he'd made a mistake.

"You know, if you were going to kill me…you would have done it long ago."

Oh, and she didn't know how true her words were and how painful as well. For as long as he could remember, he had done what he wanted when he wanted, but once the Seer passed her powers on to him it meant that there were few who were safe from his grasp: Regina, Snow White, even Cora in a strange way. And now, unfortunately for him, Belle was one of those individuals. He couldn't kill her. And all because the damn Seer wouldn't reveal her importance in his future! He hadn't wanted her to know that though…what had he done wrong that she no longer feared him? Was it because he'd let Robin live? If it was, she was wrong. He just couldn't explain it to her. Was it because he'd given her clothing? That wasn't for her! It was so he didn't need to be distracted by worrying about her clothes falling apart and obviously that had failed him because she was wearing the blue dress now, which was supposed to be safe, but the way she'd arranged her corset and tightened her stays her breasts were practically spilling out of it! Perhaps it was because he hadn't locked her room at night. Maybe they needed to consider going back to that, just to get the upper hand back.

"Now, tell me what you've seen!" she urged with bright, happy eyes. "How was your trip to Camelot?!"

A smart man in his position would have given her a false answer, sent her back to her dungeon, locked her inside, and gone back to work. But after nearly two days alone in the tower he wasn't too keen on solitude…also something he couldn't explain to her. Not to mention, those "bright, happy eyes" mixed with that particular dress...he found it difficult not to answer her.

"Good for me…not so good for Camelot."

And damn him…when she smiled like that it didn't make him want to stop the way it should. Perhaps if he busied her, gave her some work to do, she wouldn't be such a tempting distraction and they could both get something done…

Into his hands, he summoned the Gauntlet from his tower. "A souvenir!" he explained passing it off to her. "Clean it for me, will you?!"

It was unlikely a good cleaning would remove Merlin's spells, but anything was worth a try where that man was concerned. Hell, if she came back and he found it did work, he'd take a bucket of whatever she'd used and scrub his tower raw himself just to gain access.

"Ah…well…what is it?" Belle asked, turning it this way and that in her own hands.

"The Magic Gauntlet! With a very specific power…it can locate anyone's greatest weakness!" he answered without pausing to ask himself why she was answering her.

"Mmm…how ominous…" she muttered. "Wait, but…why do you need this?" she exclaimed suddenly. "With all your power, you could destroy any foe!"

Very interesting. So she admitted that he had the power to destroy others, but she also had come to the conclusion that he wouldn't do it to her. The woman was far too intelligent for her own good.

"Ah, if you must know, it's about manipulation," he answered. "And for that…you must find one's weakness, and for almost everyone that weakness is the thing they love most. This will simply point me in the right direction!"

Or at least it would if he could put the damn thing on without Merlin's magic reacting poorly to his own. But he wondered…would Belle try it on? Could she work it? For a moment, he could see himself back up in his tower watching her clean it just to see if she would try until he heard his conversation with Nimue clear and crisp in his mind…

_"I've more important things to do."_

_"Ah yes…finding your son and eyeing that maid of yours in the cauldron."_

Was that her perception of him? Finding his son was his first priority, but watching Belle hardly was. Perhaps it was time to rid himself of that little habit. When she'd been under her father's roof or Robin had been here that was one thing, spending the last two days watching her when he could have been doing other things…maybe he needed to stop watching. Maybe he needed to stop worrying over her, stop using her for entertainment or sport. Maybe he needed to stop seeing her as anything other than a maid.

"But I don't understand-"

"Which isn't my problem!" he snapped angrily, though he wasn't sure what she'd done in the last few seconds to warrant a response like that from him. "I've answered your questions, you've done very little cleaning! Between the two of us, you've been downright rude and lazy!"

He watched as her eyes widened and became steely and cold all over again. He'd touched a nerve. More than that. He had the feeling that this time around he might have gone too far with her and didn't understand why he cared.

"Off! Off you go! I want that spotless before dinner! Or next time the cat leaves, the mouse will find herself very unhappy with the new rules."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember writing this scene for Moments and leaving hints behind that he wasn't gone but rather just up in his tower ignoring her. Shifting the story and letting him watch her during this time was fun.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I really was happy to hear you thought it was alright. I'm curious to hear what you think of this chapter, there's a lot of subtlety that I added to this chapter. I did it to show where his head is at when he's not thinking about it. There are a couple of places where he uses a plural pronoun for the pair of them ("they") done to show in his head he's already thinking of them as a unit in some way. There are times that you are meant to see that he recognizes her as an equal, she gets angry at him, she stands up to him, she yells, but he doesn't kill her and in fact he often has the feeling of wanting to back down because she does it. Then there is that other little thing I mentioned before that also comes into play here. No one has guessed it yet, so I'm happy to point it out. Anyone notice that he's stopped calling her "girl"? Yeah...that happened back with Robin Hood. I forget which chapter exactly, but there is one specific point where the chapter starts with him thinking about her as "girl" and by the time it ends she's a "woman" and he never thinks of her as anything else again. This chapter really showcases that. Of course, you know where we're going next, so let's move forward, shall we. Peace and Happy Reading!


	120. Fair is Fair

It was the "lazy". He knew he'd taken things a bit too far with his caretaker when he'd called her lazy. He'd watched her for two solid days and what he'd found had been anything but laziness, and yet he'd called her lazy anyway. Now she was angry. It didn't take a genius to see that.

Clean the glove, he'd said. And she had. In fact, she'd taken a page out of his own book and made a show of it. That night, when she'd brought him dinner, aside from their two plates, the tray she'd carried in had a third plate on it, upon which she'd laid the glove. It was so clean that it practically sparkled, even in the firelight.

And she was so angry that she practically outshined that firelight.

He snatched it off of its place on her tray and examined it himself all the while feeling the heat of her eyes on him. Over and over and over he'd turned it in his hands, looking for something, a smudge here, dust there, a scratch anywhere! But there were no marks, no smudges, no imperfections at all. He hadn't wanted to ignore someone so bad since he'd lived with Milah. But when she kept his food from him, he found he had no choice but to look at her. Fire blazed in her eyes. How women could master looks that were both cold and hot at the same time was a mystery to him that was greater than how she'd gotten the glove so clean. But when she finally raised her eyebrows and offered a small haughty smirk, he felt something in his belly drop to the floor.

She was angry. There was no doubt about that as she grabbed her own food to sit and eat by the fire and left him to move his own plate. He didn't dare order her to come back and serve him. He knew enough about women to know better than to do that.

He had questions, he had curiosities. He did desperately want to know if she'd tried the thing on, but he didn't ask. He'd been tempted more than a dozen times between then and now to check on her, but he'd followed his own recommendations and curbed that particular desire. If he really didn't care about what she did or what she thought, then he had to start acting like it. The first step in that was to stop watching her and get back to the real task at hand. If he needed her, or needed someone to wear the Gauntlet, he'd know right where to find her. That was also why, tempting as it was to see her smile, he didn't pay attention to her reaction when he left a fresh stack of paper, a couple of jars of ink, and a few quills in her library the next morning.

She didn't deserve them, not after she'd practically thrown his plate at him that morning, but when he recalled the shine of the Gauntlet and how he'd called her lazy, he'd been compelled to do that one, last, little thing for her. Perhaps it would improve her mood; his plates couldn't continue to take the abuse if it didn't work.

Fortunately, it seemed to work. When he sat down that afternoon for tea, she seemed her normal self, though that meant she was neither angry nor pleasant. She set his saucer and teacup on the table lightly and poured him his tea as a proper lady should without a hint of malice in her actions or even her demeanor; no nasty smirks, no glares, no raised eyebrows. He could have wept with relief at that. Gods, she frustrated him. Probably just as much as he frustrated her. In some ways, he felt like it was only fair. She was the first person he'd met in a long time that refused to come quaking and shaking before him or serve him as a dark and frightening being. Instead, he almost felt merely human again when she was around, and that made him feel…he didn't know what to call the feeling. It was far more exciting than normal, and yet it wasn't quite powerful. It was just…he didn't know.

"So…" she sighed as she handed over his tea gently. "I've figured out why you collect so many magical objects, like the Gauntlet from Camelot…"

He was grateful that the cup hadn't quite made it to his mouth yet, for surely he would have spit his tea out at her assertion. He was amused again. Whatever deep psychological conclusions she'd come to were sure to be wrong but entertaining. Unfortunately, he'd promised himself he'd stop looking to her for entertainment, so he tried not to show it. Instead, he dramatically set his tea back on the table and rolled his eyes at her.

"I really need to find you more tasks…" he muttered before glancing up at her and preparing himself for whatever she might need to say.

"You have a hole in your heart," she commented as if she was commenting on a bird with a broken wing or a snail who had lost his shell.

A hole in his heart? He didn't know what she expected him to say to that. Did she think he was going to confess that she was right, that he missed his son more than anything and it was in his absence he'd become who he was now? Or was he to joke with her about some sort of mysterious physical ailment that literally put a hole in his heart?

"No…in my stomach! Because while you so ably made me tea, you forgot all about the tea cakes!" he shouted instead. He snapped his fingers and a plate of tea cakes stacked one on top of the other appeared there. Figures, he hadn't watched her, but every other week, on this day, she'd brought him teacakes and so he'd taken a guess and summoned them from the kitchen. There they were. She hadn't quite forgotten them, she'd just forgotten to bring them up. Lucky for her. "Must I do everything?"

He prayed she'd take his cue to pretend she'd never said what she'd said. He hoped that instead she might just pour herself a cup of tea, take a cake, and go sit in his chair by the fire quietly reading her book like she always did. What he wouldn't do to go back to just before he'd given her that dress and things had been simpler. When she'd been down and out because a curtain had been too dusty for her to handle. He wanted her to leave well enough alone, but he knew who he was dealing with. They'd been living together now for long enough that he wasn't surprised when she didn't take her tea or cakes and go sit down like a good little girl might. When she had something to say, there was just no getting out of it.

"You're a lonely man," she insisted as he tried to ignore her by taking a cake. The problem was that she was difficult to drown out. "But the fact is no matter how many things you acquire, that's all they'll ever be…things! And…an awful way to fill a heart."

Well then, she'd only got part of it right. She didn't know as much as she thought she did. A hole in his heart he would admit to, he missed his son in a way that any parent would miss their child. But his artifacts didn't fill Bae's departure, they didn't make him feel better or replace his son. They were merely the tools to getting back the most important person in his life. He wasn't about to forget that. And he wasn't about to let her go about making her assumptions incorrectly. If his options were that she could be angry with him or questioning his every move, he would prefer her to be angry.

"There is only one thing missing in my life right now…clean clothes!" With another snap of his fingers, he summoned every item of cloth he could think of, every shirt, every sheet, every towel, every linen, and piled them up on top of the table before her.

"But…I…" she stepped forward and examined the pile, shaking her head in disbelief. "I-I scrubbed these just yesterday!"

"Well, scrub them again, dearie!" he insisted. There was a difference between being beautifully bold and proudly annoying, it was a thin, thin line, but she was coming to cross it. After Robin he was committed to keeping her here with him until he could figure out the plans the Seer had for her, he could handle being kind to her, giving her a library to make her smile, and clothes to make sure she was kept modest, though her cleavage might say otherwise at the moment. But he'd be damned if he was going to allow her to walk all over him as she was. He was the master, she was the servant. She had to learn her place.

"You're getting too big for your britches! You should remember your place…cleaning mine!" He took a cake and sat back proudly as he watched her shift back from curious to angry and felt pride swell. There. He'd pushed her over the edge again. It was a job well done.

"Maybe the next time you want to insult the person making your food, you should-"

Before she could finish, he snapped his fingers again and sent her and the laundry out back to where she did the laundry.

And there was that temptation again, the urge to get up, to go to his cauldron, to watch her and see how she'd react…

He fought it back.

He paid her too much attention as it was, allowed her too many privileges. She had a tendency to make him so angry he could shake. Maybe it would do her some good to be so angry with him that she shook too. If they returned to the quiet angry tension they'd had before he'd tried to smooth things over with paper and quill, then at least he'd have peace and quiet in his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's small, but this chapter, as well as the last, really work to enable the next chapter. How so? Because up until this moment it's quite clear he's been watching her. But in this episode, it's also clear that he's no longer watching her, because if he was then he wouldn't be so surprised to find she's missing and have not a clue who took her. Nimue's comment a few chapters ago serves it's purpose in that it forces him to say "I don't care about her, look I can stop watching any time I want!" Of course, that has some pretty poor consequences for our next chapters.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your continued support and comments throughout this fiction. They are wonderful, wonderful encouragement to keep going. I hope that you'll continue to read and enjoy, because there are some really yummy Rumbelle chapters in our future! Peace and Happy Reading!


	121. Into Thin Air

After he'd sent Belle outside, he'd sat in the Great Room by himself for a little bit, tea and cakes in hand. He'd intended to bask in the glow of sweet, blissful privacy, but with her gone, and only the fire in the grate to listen to and watch, he'd soon grown bored. Part of him had wished she hadn't brought up her conversation when she had, that she might have waited just a few more minutes so that they could have ended things much closer to the end of teatime rather than the beginning. He had vowed not to be entertained by her, and that was, so far, proving to be a difficult vow to keep. After so much solitude in this castle, he had to admit it was nice to have another body around. But he'd made a vow, and he intended to keep it. So with a wave of his hand, he'd sent the tea and cakes back to the kitchens for her to clean up when she was done and retired to his bedroom. It was the one place he could trust at the moment. He'd just sent all of his laundry out with Belle, so she had no reason to come into his room. At the same time, it was the only place he could trust himself not to watch her in the cauldron…another vow he'd made that he was determined to keep.

He itched to do it. His fingers twitched and rubbed against his palm as he fought back the urge to go to his Tower and watch her, see her reaction to his little joke! So instead he sat at his wheel and began to spin. He could always count on spinning to clear his head, to focus him! He needed to focus right now. With Regina's transformation into the Evil Queen, there was so much to do and so very little time to make sure it happened in. He was just beginning to make a list in his head, to pour every thought he'd ever had about his maid out into the thread he spun, and regain the concentration that she'd stolen from him when he felt it.

Something was wrong. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but something was very wrong.

His magic was on alert. But why? It felt like someone had just entered his property, an intruder! But the signature was so low, so small…he wasn't one to risk it…

In a flash he was in his Tower, he waved his hand over his cauldron. "Show me the intruder!" he demanded. No picture appeared in the water. No intruder. Well…no, not now. Before he tried the cauldron again so foolishly he felt inside himself for the magic he'd felt, but it was gone. The warning was lifted. There was an intruder, but there wasn't anymore? But…who was likely to set foot on his land accidentally? And with such a low warning, it had been barely noticeable…

He scrambled over to his table and grabbed his crystal ball. "Show me the Apprentice!"

There he was. In his home, sweeping the floor just as he almost always was. Not him. So who?

"Show me the intruder!" he demanded of the ball. This time the result was different. Unlike looking in the cauldron, a single image came to him—a dog in the woods. White with black spots, it was no more than a pup. He watched as it wandered around the wood, raising its nose to the air to smell something or other, then began digging in the ground with his paws. He was confused. An animal wouldn't have set off his magic!

But that would...

A moment later the pup transformed itself into a little boy of perhaps six or seven and he understood. A shapeshifter. He watched as the boy pulled a coin from the dirt, bit into it, then ran away smiling, leaving him utterly baffled. A boy. A shapeshifting boy had come onto his property and left? He supposed that could have made sense. The puppy probably didn't even know he'd come onto his property. By the back woods there was a small hole in the wall of his property that he never really cared about before just because he had his own protections. The dog probably got in that way. He'd probably just smelled money! And yet…

He glanced over at the place that his curse was hidden. Nothing had changed. The magic there was the same. In the Great Hall, he looked over his collection, one item at a time, all present, all accounted for…except for one.

Where was Belle?

Usually, this time of the day, she was finishing up the second room she'd cleaned and was heading down to the kitchen to start dinner. He'd sent her out to do laundry, and he hadn't spied on her, but he had a feeling that had probably kept her from her schedule. Still, it was possible she was working on laundry and dinner as the kitchen door was near the place outside that she'd hung her lines. It was right next to the gap in the wall.

He hurried out of the Great Room and down the stairs to the dungeons and the kitchen that she used. Nothing. The fire wasn't lit, the food he'd taken from the market in the village below was still waiting for her to decide what to do with it. And his maid was just the right kind of annoying that if she saw a cute little puppy, she'd follow it…

He rushed outside into the damp and fog of late autumn.

"Belle?!" he called out, looking around. There was no answer, but he wasn't looking at her workspace just now, that was around the corner. And he had sent her out a cloak. If she had the hood up, perhaps she couldn't hear as well?

It was far-fetched, but the image of the boy in the crystal ball was reassuring. In the image, the dog had been alone. That meant he was panicking needlessly. He would turn the corner and find her there. His collection would be complete. He'd make up some excuse to get her back into the house until tomorrow when he could protect the barrier against shapeshifters and repel animals. It was an extreme measure for one shapeshifting dog, but now that he was so close to Baelfire he couldn't afford these kind of distractions or breakdowns in his security. His peace of mind was worth it.

"Belle?" he called out rounding the corner and seeing linen's on the line blowing in the mountain breeze. "Belle?!" he cried again, his voice so angry and gravely he half expected to hear an answer right then and there. It was the kind of tone that should have sent her running. But it hadn't. He felt odd suddenly. Numb. Why couldn't he find her?

"Where have you gone?"

Her things were there, the laundry was on the line, the fires were lit. But she obviously wasn't present. Running. He'd used a tone that should have sent her running, but now he wondered if it was possible she could have run in the wrong direction? If maybe the boy and fate had been on her side and she'd taken a window of opportunity to flee. She wouldn't…

"Don't tell me you've done something stupid like running away!" he called into the forest. As soon as he announced it, he knew it wasn't so. He'd been cruel to her, perhaps. He'd chastised her, called her lazy, snapped when she'd gotten a bit too close to the truth of his past. But he'd done far worse than that since she'd arrived and yet she'd remained. She was a smart girl. Running away didn't seem her method of revenge. If she wanted to make him feel her anger, she preferred to give him the cold shoulder. Besides, she understood the terms of their deal, and he didn't think she'd risk having him go back on his promises to her village. And, to top it all off, she wasn't stupid. She'd watched him with Robin of Locksley, was right by his side as he hunted the man. She knew that if she ran, he'd catch her eventually. No…she hadn't run away. She wasn't the type and she was too smart for it. So then where was she?!

Suddenly a bird drew his attention to the sky. He'd been listening to the thing squawk since he got outside only now it became an annoyance and-

Something winked at him in the sky. The bird was flying away, but something was coming closer to him, falling from the thing's claws. He took a step back as the round object dropped at his feet. A sand dollar?

He reached down and picked it up, and only then could he feel the magic within it. A small spell, one that used Dark Magic instead of Light. Dark Magic and a raven…he chilled.

He held the dollar in his hand and waved is other over it, forcing the magic to come out in a swirl of orange and yellow and…there she was! Belle. She was struggling in the message. Her hands bound with rope as she tried to loosen her bonds.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she exclaimed nervously. "I'm...I'm supposed to ask you for...for that Gauntlet from Camelot. Bring it to the base of Demon's Bluff at midnight or..." he watched as she stopped to collect herself and glanced around her. "Or I'll be killed," she finally cried with a gasp.

He felt himself take a breath that he somehow felt he couldn't expel as suddenly he heard a great laugh, female, come from the message. Belle looked around again.

"Rumple, help!" she cried before the message disappeared. Her last two words echoed. Her shriek was undying as he finally felt that breath he'd been holding onto leave his body.

"Ah!" he growled.

No! Captured! He knew she wouldn't have left on her own. She was too smart to run but not smart enough to be captured?! All for the Gauntlet?! And damn him! Damn him for giving her that cloak and not putting some kind of tracking spell on it so he couldn't find her! But who-

He looked skyward, to the place the raven was circling. He knew who. There was only one woman that knew he had a servant here at the moment, who used black birds in her bidding, and who had threatened him the last time he'd seen her. He wouldn't put it past Regina to do something like this after what he'd done to her.

"You!" he cried at the bird. "I know where you came from! Tell your master I know who she is, and she's just crossed a line!"

And now, he'd have to cross of few of his own!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I've done my job right then this chapter should make this scene a bit less...lucky, perhaps? I don't know, I remember watching it and feeling like everything was just a little bit too perfect. But hopefully, past chapters have helped to make it seem a little more in line. The reason he's stopped watching her, how Belle got out without him sensing the witches, and because of a few chapters back it should even make sense why he suspects Regina here. "But Sara, I've seen this episode, he doesn't suspect Regina." On the contrary, we've had so few opportunities to showcase it you might have forgotten, but my fictions always re-add deleted scenes. There aren't many for Rumple in the Enchanted Forest (at least I hope I haven't missed any) but there is one coming up next!
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for your comments on the last chapter. I really do appreciate those and I'm so happy to hear that you like what is being done thus far. I hope that you don't mind my take on the boy. I'm an animal lover so the idea that evil people would take a puppy for a trap and then just abandon it in the woods bothered me. The shapeshifting thing made me feel a lot better thinking that the boy was just happy to find some money and then run home to his parents. Hope you don't mind, Peace and Happy Reading!


	122. A Miscalculation

The fact that he had Belle at the castle wasn't exactly a secret, but it wasn't exactly well known either. Her father, the court, probably most of her puny little Kingdom knew that he had her. However, closer to home, there were a few. Robin of Locksley, for one, knew that she was here. But even if dear Robin risked all to come back here and save her, he doubted that he would tie her up and force her to make a magical ransom message for him. For one thing, while Robin of Locksley, or Hood, or whatever name he decided to go by these days, had some kind of magic that changed his face during the time he was here, he knew that he wasn't innately magical. How he'd gotten that magic was a mystery and there was a lot he wouldn't put passed that thief. But kidnapping his maid, tying her up, sending a magical message via black bird, and asking for the Gauntlet seemed a stretch for that man.

However, there was one woman he'd recently wronged who did know that he had a maid, who wouldn't bat an eye at tying a helpless woman up, had the ability and create magical messages, and perhaps most damning of all used black birds to send messages.

Regina.

He didn't know how she knew about the Gauntlet. Of course, he had yet to check on Camelot to see how all that had turned out, perhaps she was close with someone there who managed to get a message to her or perhaps…

He shivered. For a brief second, his heart stopped beating.

Perhaps she'd tortured Belle for the information.

In the message she'd been tied up, but otherwise hadn't looked hurt. Of course, that didn't matter. Messages like that were used by extracting images from an individual's mind. If Belle had a black eye and didn't know it, then it wouldn't show in the message. If her lip was split, her head cut open, any and all manner of gruesome pictures came to mind and left his mouth feeling dry.

Demon's Bluff at mid-night. That wasn't going to happen. Not with Regina. She should know better. He didn't give in to idle threats and he wasn't going to allow her to have the upper hand, not by a long shot. He wasn't going to leave Belle out there for hours, stranded, cold, and potentially hurt. Whatever she'd done to her, he could undo, but he had to have her by his side first! It was getting dark, and there was no time to waste.

He found Regina too easily. The woman had no idea how to conceal her magic even if she tried, not to mention she seemed all too quickly to forget who had taught her everything she knew. And when he was seething the way he felt he was, finding her was all too simple. Belle had been right last night, he wouldn't kill her because there were a few he needed for the future to reach Baelfire. If Regina wasn't one of them, he'd have killed her on sight.

In the end, he found his pupil in a rather odd position. He'd expected she'd be waiting for him, at her castle prepared for him to show up. She wasn't. He took himself to her and instead found himself in a place that was familiar, but not to Regina. In was the outskirts of a small farm. There was Regina, just ahead of him, and there standing across from her, holding a crossbow, was a woman he hadn't seen in decades, not with his own two eyes at least. Granny. Oh, he'd spied on her in one way or another over the years, watching mostly because she and her granddaughter were known to give shelter to Snow White every now and then. As far as he was aware Regina had never caught the girl lurking so clearly right under her nose…until now.

He stared at the old woman, she looked at him over Regina's shoulder, obviously aware he was there and recognized him easily enough. Regina, it seemed, hadn't felt him drift in. There was a snap from her, something he didn't recognize. And then he watched her from behind as she cast aside a couple of sticks. An arrow. The old woman was holding a crossbow. Or at least she was until Regina used her magic to fling it away.

"The bandit Snow White, where is she?!" she demanded.

Not today. Regina couldn't take something from him, and then not expect to feel the same kind of loss he felt. With a wave of his hand, Granny was gone, sitting back in her home with a protection spell placed around it.

"What?!" Regina blanched.

"Oops!"

Regina turned, a sneer on her face that could curdle the blood of any lesser demon, but he barely felt a twitch. Not when there was a raven sitting right next to her like some kind of precious little bodyguard! She'd been making deals with devils that weren't him. The child had to learn her place.

"I'm in no mood for games," she snarled.

He held the witch's gift up to show her. "I got your message," he stated, tossing it at her feet. "And there will be no deal. Return my maid Belle, or I'll turn you into a pot of stew!" And to his shock and surprise…he meant it. In that moment, he did, at least. There was a hissing from the Seer that he could do no such thing for she was the one he needed, but for that one brief second, for the role she played in all of this, he knew he would have forgotten himself and done it if she refused. And he assumed that was what she was about to do. Suddenly a smile broke over the face of the Evil Queen.

"Oh…well…" Suddenly she let out an uncharacteristic laugh and clapped her hands. "This just became fun! The Great and Powerful Dark One's up in arms…because someone took his maid?!"

"Coy never suited you, dearie," he whispered, taking a step closer. "I know what you did! I saw that raven of yours!"

As if on cue the bloody bird turned and let out an annoying caw.

A caw...his stomach suddenly tightened as he remembered, the bird he'd heard, it's call was much higher than that. But...

"My Raven?" Regina questioned, glancing over at the creature before looking back at him. "Darling, I don't use ravens. I use crows."

Crows…not ravens but…but he was certain! He was positive what he'd seen had been a raven. A raven with a sand dollar. He took a step back as he realized…

Why would Regina use a sand dollar for the message? She was nowhere near the sea. But there was someone he knew of that did use ravens. And she was friends with someone who would use a sand dollar as a message. And they were both friends with someone who might be able to convince a shapeshifter pup to enter forbidden ground. But...how had they gotten past his defenses? And after all this time...why?!

"And you…" Regina continued, "don't usually make stupid mistakes."

He stood up a little taller at her accusation. A raven and a sand dollar from a trio he hadn't seen in years versus a crow from a woman he'd trained and recently sent through hell…he'd hardly call that a stupid mistake. And Regina…she was friends with one of those trio, highly held her in high esteem as a matter of fact, so much that he knew she'd gotten the idea of using crows for messages from the woman who used ravens for messages.

"Which means something's got under your skin…Ah!" Regina gasped, stepping forward as her eyes widened with surprise. "You're emotional over this Belle!"

Enough with this!

"If you're lying-"

But she let out a squeal before he could continue and shouted, "you like this girl!"

"I own her!" he roared. "Nobody takes what's mine!" Nobody took what was his to make a deal for something else that was his. That was his move! His play! The woman had taken far more than Belle from him and he wouldn't stand for it! And heaven help her if he found out Regina had anything to do with this! He still hadn't figured out how those beasts would have known he had the girl or the Gauntlet. He wasn't willing to dismiss her quite her. "You're quite lucky it wasn't you," he growled in Regina's direction. "But do not give me any further reason to unleash my wrath because it won't be pretty."

"Pretty..." she echoed. Regina took a step closer with a smile he wanted to whip off her face. "Pretty like…Belle?" she questioned before letting loose another laugh that didn't become her. Sometimes he forgot just how much of a child she could be. Oh, how desperately did he want to remind her who the teacher was in this relationship!

He took a step back and had to steady his breath. She was making him angry, and he needed that anger for what was to come as the sun began to set. He was left with little choice now about where to go and how he'd have to get his maid back. He wasn't in the mood for debating such things to defending obvious truths. He could have, if he so desired, written a book about how Belle's beauty compared to Regina's or even Cora's, but there was no time! And either way, he didn't care.

"Don't test me."

"I'm not testing you!" she exclaimed, waving a hand in the air to dismiss him. "For once, I'm giving you a bit of advice. Be careful with that…shriveled dark heart of yours. Love is weakness…didn't you know that?" she questioned before letting a smile spread over her face once more.

Yes. Yes, he did know that, because it was her bloody mother that had taught him all about that! But there was no need to debate this further. She could taunt him and make as many childish assumptions as she wanted, but the truth was that love, or any other emotion, had nothing to do with it. This was a matter of pride and nothing else.

"Well…look who's talking," he sneered. "Be sure to remember that when you cozy up tonight with your own little wolf pet!"

He stayed long enough to see the smile vanish from her face before returning to his castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, I know, but the deleted scene was short and I didn't feel that it was a scene that needed "framed" as I call it. That is, there wasn't much that I felt needed added to the beginning or the end of it. Still, short as it is I made sure to give you a few little gems. You bet he could write books about Belle's beauty!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I truly am sorry this chapter is short but I know that you have some really juicy and awesome Rumbelle chapters coming up next! Peace and Happy Reading!


	123. A Delicate Negotiation

Who did he know who had taught Regina to use black birds to carry messages? Who might Regina have accidentally told he had a maid around his castle? Who did he know who had a friend that might be able to easily obtain a sand dollar? Who knew a woman that might be able to force a shifter boy in animal form into his property to lure away a gullible woman? Who would have a bone to pick with him? Who knew magic and wouldn't mind torturing the Gauntlet out of the same young woman she'd kidnapped and would do something stupid like demand the Gauntlet in a half-assed ransom plan?

Maleficent.

Ursula.

Cruella.

He didn't particularly care for the situation they'd placed him in, Belle for the Gauntlet, but by the time he'd returned home and thought of an alternative plan, he was out of time to do anything more than execute that plan. He didn't like it, it was untested, and there was a very real chance that he might not succeed, but thinking of it as one great experiment helped. He wasn't going to pay a ransom for Belle, and he especially wasn't going because he "liked her", as Regina had so childishly accused him of. He was going in order to see an experiment through. If it worked, excellent. If it failed…well he'd only had the Gauntlet for a short time, and he couldn't even work the damn thing. He supposed he couldn't miss what he'd never had. Belle's tea cakes, on the other hand…he might miss those. Besides, though he could see the future, he didn't have time to sit down and meditate on it right now, which meant that for him, the outcome was uncertain. He was a smart man, an experienced dealmaker, trading the Gauntlet wasn't written in stone, for all he knew he could figure a way out of this that included Belle and the Gauntlet.

It wasn't midnight when he finally grabbed the Gauntlet and went to Demon's Bluff, but it was close enough. He couldn't have waited any longer even if he'd wanted to. The thought of Belle at the mercy of those three demons, and the potential to gain an advantage, was too much to resist.

Demon's Bluff was a rocky, dangerous place. It was almost always slippery. The rocks and their height in the sea depended upon the tides. He had a strong suspicion that when high tide came in, this part of the bluff would be underwater, but he couldn't be sure. He'd only ever been once before, and that was when he'd tried to con Ursula into taking him across realms and attempted to steal her trident. The tide had been lower then, but it had been just as dark. Now, he listened as waves crashed around him. To the naked eye, the area around him seemed empty and desolate, but he knew better. Magic was in the air, the kind of Dark Magic he'd encountered plenty of times when he came across Maleficent. Ahead of him was a cave. If he had to guess, they were hiding out, waiting for him. Had he been alone, he would have gone inside. But he wasn't sure where Belle was. He didn't know how they were holding her, her condition, if she'd be fit to move, or if they'd cast a spell that prevented him from taking her. He'd have to play by their rules. For now…

"I have what you want, dearie!" he cried at the top of his lungs. "Now, show yourself!"

He expected to see Maleficent, he figured they'd start with their strongest player and then bring the weakest out holding a knife or some other kind of weapon to Belle's throat. He didn't expect to see his maid come staggering out of the cave first, hands bound with rope so thick she couldn't move them. She looked fine. Perhaps a little upset, but there appeared to be no split lip, no cuts or blood, no black eyes. It was just the look on her face that held his concentration. He'd never seen her scared before.

"Rumple!" she called out. "Help!"

His breath caught, he was a step away from walking over, seizing her up, and carrying her off to the castle. But he was too slow. Before he could take that step and save her, he felt a burst of magic pulsing around her. There was a trap laid around her so that he couldn't do just that. And then…a voice.

"Yes, Rumpelstiltskin! You help her!"

Maleficent's voice carried around the rocks and over the crash of the waves. It was everywhere all at once, a simple, cheap spell. And then there they were an unkindness of black birds that he could see now, up close, were in fact ravens. They were where the voice had come from. Apparently, someone had been practicing a shapeshifting spell.

"Maleficent!" he yelled, a voice he'd only reserved for Baelfire when he was playing games and not being nearly as serious as he'd wanted him to be. She took it to heart; a moment later the ravens formed into the body of a woman and there she was, the dragon herself. He could kill her for all this. In fact, he still wasn't past killing her if necessary, it would certainly take whatever spell she'd placed on Belle away and allow him to leave with her. But he'd learned in his time not to be rash and considering he was certain there were still two more people about that he hadn't seen yet, a decision like that seemed the definition of "rash".

"Oh! I am impressed!" he smiled giddily, waving his hands in the air like a silly excited child. He loved putting people at ease before he killed them. "Didn't think you had it in you!"

"I'm not here for your praise," Maleficent stated coolly. "Give me the Gauntlet, and you can have your wench back."

Wench. Something about that word twisted his stomach. Maybe because it was what that sick sheriff had called Belle when he tried to make a deal as well, but he felt a bit of his control ebb at that word. She was not "his wench" not in any way Maleficent or the sheriff or even Regina thought! But, furthermore, the only one allowed to call her such things, would be him.

"Well…seeing as how you asked so nicely!" He let his magic loose and watched with delight as Maleficent was thrown into the night sky, hoisted higher and higher by her throat. He rejoiced with every last gag and choke that made it's way from her mouth to his ears. It was as sweet as a nightingale's song. "You think you can steal from the Dark One and live?" he questioned menacingly. "Fatal mistake, dearie! Any last words?"

There was a pause as the woman gathered her breath. "I'm…not…alone," she finally whispered, somehow managing a raspy and cold chuckle.

It was a good reminder. He'd never assumed she was alone, but if he'd gone much farther he might have forgotten. His back was to the ocean. Ordinarily that was a good thing, but considering one of her number was Ursula…

"The Sea Witch!"

And there she was, right on cue, not behind him, but in front of him. She walked out of the cave, but he could hardly focus on her as he watched one tentacle wrap around Belle's neck, instantly turning her face red. In another second, one encircled her waist as well. That was bad. Now not only was Maleficent's spell protecting her, so was Ursula. He felt dread wash over him as he fought to keep himself collected before their eyes, but he couldn't help but feel that he had lost his opportunity. He could have killed Maleficent and whisked Belle away in a flash before the duo knew what had happened. He should have done that. Now he could kill one, but she would still be trapped. He was trying to think of something, but Belle had gone silent as Ursula held her, and every second felt like he was closer to releasing the Gauntlet to them.

"Such a pretty thing! Seems a shame I'll have to crack her pipes!" Ursula taunted in a low, threatening voice.

"Harm one hair on her head…Maleficent burns!" he threatened right back. He was making a bet, a good bet, but a bet all the same. They'd stayed together after he'd brought them together he had to assume the pair meant something to one another. Or should he say the trio…

"Then Ursula will kill your maid and…and where will that leave us?" Cruella questioned, emerging from the darkness with a slow stagger so much different than Belle's powerless one.

"Cruella! Thought I caught a whiff of desperation and gin!" he squealed as if he were happy to see her when really she was the last person on earth he'd ever expected to come into contact with. Frankly, he was shocked to see any of them. He knew they'd survived Bald Mountain, but he'd thought his defenses were good enough he'd never have to endure something like this again. He hated to curse children, but if it weren't for that damn pup…!

"I must say I'm surprised to see you all here. Last time we crossed, it looked like things weren't going your way! And…unless you hand back my maid, they won't be this time either!"

"Shall I get you a step stool so you can look in my eyes when you threaten me?!" Cruella snapped with the look of a tiger about to pounce in her eyes. It was funny, she was the least magic out of the three, if she thought she could scare him, then she had another thing coming. He might have laughed, if Belle wasn't still so clearly struggling.

"I don't need to threaten you, dearie. It took three of you to get this far, and I promise it isn't far enough!"

"Have it your way!" Cruella commented with a small shrug. "Ursula, darling, crush the maid's heart!"

His eyes immediately went to Belle, and he felt a jolt rush through his body. He could see that Cruella wasn't bluffing and Ursula wasn't joking around. Her tentacles tightened over her waist as well as her neck. And Belle…she'd been struggling until now, twisting and turning her wrists as if she could loosen the knots, standing up straight as Ursula forced her to. He'd thought, up until that moment that her face had been red, now knew it was only pink. That color, right there, that was red. Red to purple, it was only a matter of time until it went blue. Blue was bad. After blue came white…and not the pale she usually was. The colors of her face reminded him of just how wrong Cruella had been. Ursula didn't need to crush her heart, just her windpipe.

Strangulation. That could be quick, but not very enjoyable. He should know, he'd done it to a number of his own victims, just as he was doing it now to Maleficent. For Belle to experience it…

Her eyes watched him. First, they were pleading, but he could see her begin to fade out. Soon her vision would bubble and then blacken and then she'd pass out and if the witch kept it up she'd never wake up again. He moved his eyes from her to Ursula to Cruella, hoping to see her watching her, hoping to see a bit of sympathy, to see that she was going to hold off and loosen her grip so she could make him another offer. But he saw none of that. Just determination in their eyes…and nearly nothing in Belle's.

It was up to him. He couldn't summon her away, and he couldn't kill Maleficent. In the time it took to remove the spell from Maleficent and kill Ursula, they'd have Belle again, and this time she'd be weak. They'd planned well, but not as well as him.

He didn't want to hand the Gauntlet over, he didn't want to be perceived as weak to them not even for the few hours he would be. But it was clear to him that he had no choice. Belle had maybe only a few seconds. He had a plan; he just needed to stick to it. He had to trust is magic. By the end of the night, the Gauntlet would be right back in his possession and hopefully, in a few seconds, so would Belle.

He grit his teeth together as he tossed the Gauntlet to Cruella as he released Maleficent from his death grip, giving in to their requests. He looked right away to Belle and immediately saw the Sea Witch loosen her grip on her neck. Her heard a choked gasp come from her, it was small, but enough to make him want to sigh with relief. She was getting air again. That was something.

He turned to the three women. When this was over, and he had the Gauntlet back, they were going to die. They knew him well enough to know that. Why they would even do try to make him angry…

"That was a risky endeavor for an old glove, dearies."

"Well, the risk was worth it…for too long we've lived in a world where the heroes always win!" Ursula declared.

"And the Gauntlet will reveal our enemy's weaknesses, and we will be the victors," Cruella added.

He wanted to roll his eyes. This old thing…that was the argument he'd used with them to get his curse. After he'd left them there for dead, they didn't still think he'd been serious, did they?

"Let her go!" Maleficent commanded before he could ask her.

One second Belle was far from him, struggling with her wrists and her breathing, the next moment Ursula had let her go and shoved her toward the cliff. She stumbled, losing her footing, she would have fallen had he not lunged forward and caught her.

They were clever, her captors. At that moment, when he was too busy getting Belle to stand, that was when Maleficent let her magic swell and carry the three of them away, back to her castle, if he had to guess. That was fine. He'd summon them back. But only once he was sure Belle was safe again.

He'd caught her, but she was still struggling. Her legs were shaking, they were so weak he could feel her faltering. Her hands were still bound and she leaned into him, into the hands that were keeping her propped up, to compensate. And her breathing...it was rough. She was inhaling, it was deep and fast, and if she didn't calm down soon, she was going to pass out from getting too much air.

"Wh-why would you do that?" she questioned, looking at him with bleary eyes. Talking. Her voice was breathless, no doubt her threat would soon swell from where she'd been strangled. She was still in danger, and she needed not to speak until he could heal her properly. "I…I mean with that object you…"

"They won't be able to harm you," he insisted. That was true whether he got the Gauntlet back or not. He was going to take her back home, heal her wounds, see her to sleep, and make sure nothing like this ever happened again. If that meant he needed to kill them, then so be it.

"Why do you care about me?"

Now it was him who didn't breathe. She was staring up at him, looking perhaps the most miserable and pathetic that he'd ever seen her look. The ocean was raging behind him, but for just a second, as he looked back into her gaze, the world went oddly quiet, as if it was waiting for an answer just as she was. Why _did_ he care about her?

"I don't!" he stated, forcing himself to let go of her, though the second she began to stumble again he wanted only to grab her once more. It wasn't because he cared. It was instinct, something gentlemanly still left within him, something that he needed to squash. Promptly. And the idea that he cared about her was one that he needed to crush from her head right now. This hadn't been to save her. It was an experiment. He was just making sure that all his collection was in order. "But if anyone's going to crush your heart…it's gonna be me!"

"But you won't!" she shook her head. He could tell that she'd meant for the words to be nearly as insistent as his were, but instead they'd come out gravely, with only a breath. They'd done damage to her. If he didn't heal her soon then her throat might swell shut. "You won't…"

She made a move suddenly, as if to take a step closer to him, but she lost her footing again, her legs fell out from under her and she would have crashed to the ground if he hadn't reached out and caught her again. She was in bad shape, and she wanted to stand here and discuss his motivation for why he'd done this?! At this rate, he wouldn't need to crush her heart, she'd end up doing it all by herself.

He rolled his eyes and pulled her closer against his chest to stabilize her. "If you don't kill yourself first," he muttered as he let the magic take them home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it! Belle's rescue! I'd say "you heard it here first" but frankly we all know you watched if first, probably read this scene over on Moments second, and now your are reading this third. So...you heard it here third. I really tried hard with this not to make it so 100% Belle because I feel like at this stage he'd be resisting that idea. Instead, I tried to keep his focus on the Gauntlet, until of course it really matters and he starts thinking on instinct alone.
> 
> Big thank yous to RolfB and Jenigweve for your comments on the last chapter. I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this one, but really excited to give you the last two chapters for this week. I know the next one is a favorite for at least one of my readers, but the last one explains exactly what he's done to the Gauntlet. I had to really think this one through, but I think you'll like the conclusion to this little science experiment. Peace and Happy Reading!


	124. Unspoken Implications

When they arrived back at the castle, she was still shaking and unsteady on her legs, which was a feat considering most of her weight was on him.

"Sit! Sit! Sit!" he cried, summoning her chaise from the library and practically pushing her onto it. She burned. Everywhere she touched him, he felt as though he were on fire and he was happy when he could finally deposit her somewhere else. She coughed as she hit the couch, probably a reaction to the swelling of her throat. That would get worse if he didn't do something about it.

"Please…please-"

"Save your voice!" he snapped at her as she choked out her words, unsure what she was pleading for. But then she looked at him with her unfocused, watery eyes and offered her hands to him, and he realized. She wasn't offering her hands, she was offering the rope that bound them. She was begging for him to release her. She was lucky. There was Dark Magic in those ropes; it was a spell he himself had cast numerous times, including on Robin Hood. They couldn't be loosened by ordinary means or even sawed through with a knife. It had to be Dark Magic that removed them. He didn't know who had done it, the Dragon or the Sea Witch, were both certainly capable, but it didn't matter. Fortunately for her, his magic was darker and stronger than Maleficent and Ursula's.

"Don't speak, you'll only do more damage." He tried to be gentler, but it was difficult to do when he looked at the rope and his anger overwhelmed him. So instead he focused on the offensive cords, he let his magic flow over them, let it overtake the enchantments within. He watched with relief as they began to loosen and finally dropped to the floor where they vanished.

She let out a noise like a whimper once they were gone, one that forced him to look up at her because he couldn't tell if the noise was relief or pain. Or maybe a little bit of both. She didn't look back at him, merely stared down at her wrists, her face twisted up as though she might burst into tears. He looked down at them himself. The witches had kept her from him for hours, and the damage was evident in the marks on her arms.

The skin at her wrists was chaffed and dry, as if she'd been rubbing them for hours. The ligature marks were every shade of red from burgundy to light pink, but in some places they were worse. There were a few locations where purple and blue dots collected, and there were a couple of lines where the skin had been pinched. If they'd kept her like that for too much longer or kept the ropes tighter, she might have lost her hands. The devils! They were worse than he was.

And there she sat, looking them over, nearly in tears, shaking head to toe! She knew the extent of his magic, she knew that he could heal her with only a wave of his hand, and yet now was the time she was going to choose to listen to his orders and stay unfailingly silent?! Not even to ask for his help?! Stubborn woman…

He let out an irritated sigh. "Well, for heaven's sake, dearie, I'd hate for you to break your habit of silent suffering and actually follow orders now!"

And then he grabbed her hands and pulled them closer with a yank that forced her whole body forward. She didn't resist, merely flopped forward like a rag doll before he put his hands over her wrists and used his magic to heal them. It took only a second, half a second, before he pulled them back and her skin was just as pale and beautiful as it always was. He had to give it to the royals, they knew how to take care of themselves in those fine palaces of theirs.

He moved his eyes up to watch her, to see if he could spot her relief or if it chased any of her tears away. But it hadn't. Instead, she just sat there still shaking, still looking at her hands and the work he'd done there. How was it possible that she looked even more like she might cry now than she had before? And why wasn't she saying anything?! She never listened to him before, why would she start now?! He felt his own chest tighten as he watched her. This afternoon he'd sent her outside to punish her for talking, but now he felt like he would do just about anything to get her talking again. He hadn't wanted this.

"What else?!" he demanded so suddenly she jumped instead of responding. "Well, don't be shy now, dearie, you'll be black and blue by morning and I'll be disappointed in having misjudged you-"

"I don't understand-"

"Don't talk, just point!" he yelled, secretly happy she'd said even those three words. He wanted her to defy him, to talk to him, to go back to the way she'd been before, but that meant healing her completely, including her throat. He could do it now, without a word or indication from her, he'd seen the places Ursula had touched, he could simply heal that, but for some reason he wanted her to interact with him, to emerge from this state, to point, to ask for help, to talk to him.

"What. Hurts?" he demanded again, begging her to do something other than sit there and stare. He could make this all go away. He had a memory potion upstairs in his tower. He could easily give it to her with a sleeping draught, put her to bed, heal her, and when she woke up it would all be gone. But he didn't want to do that, not if he could help it. He'd already given it to her once and compared to that event, this was nothing. She was strong. She could overcome this, he knew she could. She just had to try. She had to fight back against the shock and the fear. She'd been doing that ever since he walked into her life, he knew she could do it again.

His heart jumped when she gave a small sigh, looked him in his eyes, then crossed her hands so they could move up the length of her arms. That was good! It was something.

He quickly replaced her hands with his own, let his magic flare, and healed her. Not that there was much there to be healed. As the spell worked, he could feel where the magic concentrated and everything was superficial. It congregated mostly in her muscle. She'd had no cuts so that meant that she was simply banged up from her time with them. She would have bruised on her arms. But he'd seen what Ursula had done to her. He knew there was more to be done.

"What else?" he urged, finally managing to at least sound calm.

She swallowed, and finally he got a response out of her that wasn't so timid or even shaky. She looked down at herself as if she was taking an assessment. The problem was that the assessment went on far too long with her saying nothing and pointing nothing out to him. There had been a tentacle wrapped and squeezing around her entire midsection and yet she didn't make any motion there. Was it because she didn't want him to touch her there? Did she too feel like she burned when they touched?

He watched as she examined herself, twisting this way and that, until she finally winced and took in a sharp breath of obvious pain.

Suddenly he didn't care what she wanted. In a flash he'd gone from waiting for her permission, to taking it for himself. She was hurting. Whether she was shy about being touched or not, it hurt him to see her like that. He was respectable, he'd buy her a new book and she'd get over it.

He reached up under her chin, careful not to let his hands touch anymore of her than necessary, and unclasped the cloak she wore so he could see what he was doing. Then he moved his hands and let his magic roam over her. Again, it was mostly muscle damage, her stomach her hips. But when he got to her sides…his magic congregated at the bone. Two of her ribs. Bones were the most difficult to heal and they never healed just right, not with magic. There was always the risk the injury could come back. But fortunately for her, the magic didn't go deep. The bones were injured but not really broken. It was probably a fracture. Still, it was probably the greatest source of her pain, more than enough to make her wince. Had she just expected she'd go about her days like that until it healed? Had she assumed that it would get better on its own, and she wouldn't be maimed?

"I'll never understand why women have absolutely no trouble with nagging men on every little thing, but insist they are fine when they clearly aren't," he mumbled as he finished the work.

He heard her take in a breath, let his heart flutter with hope for a moment at the possibility of her arguing with him just like they usually did, but no noise came from her. When he finished on her he glanced up, what he saw from her was better than words.

She let out a defeated sigh, held her head up high, and placed her hand across her throat, silently asking him to heal her. That was the Belle he knew. She was still shaking, she still looked stunned, but at least she was communicating with him. And asking for her voice back meant further communication. It also meant more conversations like the one they'd had earlier that day, but he'd take it. Watching her ask was a better prize than he could have hoped for so soon. He just couldn't let her see it.

"As much as it pains me to give you your voice back so you can continue to evaluate every aspect of my life, if you'd screamed in the first place, we might not be having this conversation to begin with."

And with that he placed his hands at her neck, he let them burn as he touched her skin, and directed the magic to do its work. It was muscle damage, nothing to her back or her neck, no bones were injured, but her throat still took longer than he'd thought it would. And when it was done the swelling was gone. Other than being shaken, she was going to be okay. Nothing a little time and some tea couldn't fix. At that thought, he used his magic to summon her chipped cup from downstairs and made sure it was brimming with hot tea.

"Drink this," he ordered, pressing the cup into her hands. "It'll help."

Her fingers brushed against his as she took it, a small reminder of just how close he was to her, and he instantly picked himself up from off the floor and stepped away as she drank.

"There wasn't time to scream," she commented in a small voice after taking a large gulp. "The woman in black, Maleficent, she had a hand over my mouth before I could. I never saw her coming. First Robin Hood now-"

"Yes, yes, clearly my protections need updating," he snarled as he urged her to drink. Though he didn't know why. "And it's comments like that making me consider taking your voice away again. I could use a few days of peace and quiet!"

There she was. A small smirk as she used trembling hands to raise the cup to her mouth once more and drink. She'd seen the humor in his threat. That was good.

"I'm sorry, it's just a lot to take in."

"Not my problem," he commented. She was fine. Staying here and trying to make her smile would have been going above and beyond what she needed. What he needed, now that she was safe, was to test his theory. Afterall, the whole reason he'd gone wasn't to get her back, it was all for an experiment. He had to go.

"Where…where are you going?!" she called after him.

To get what belonged to him so that his collection could be complete once more. But to tell her that…

"Why to reinforce the protection spells of course!" he stated. "No doubt I'll be off again soon and this time I'll be sure the boundaries are protected from evil intentions so that _this_ doesn't happen again! After all, I'm a busy man…I don't have time to spare running after you and making sure you don't wind up in trouble again and risking one of _my_ precious souvenirs! So careful next time you decide to go wandering about, dearie. I might just leave you to the wolves."

But he wouldn't.

Perhaps that stray thought had been his, perhaps it was the Seer or maybe just an echo of the words Belle had said on the bluff. But those words whispered tried and true in his mind. He wouldn't do that. No matter what he told himself, how loud he shouted in his head that he didn't care, that Regina was wrong about everything except the pretty part…those three words were undeniable. He wouldn't leave her in danger. It must have been the last dregs of humanity left in him.

"Thank you!"

"What?!" he yelled, nearly at the door, turning around to look at her. Those words had not been in his head. She'd cried them out just before he could leave her alone to compose herself.

"Thank you," she repeated kindly. "For…not leaving me to the wolves. For saving my life…thank you."

You're welcome...

That was all he had to say. The words were right on the tip of his tongue, so automatic that he'd opened his mouth to say them before he caught himself. It was the polite response to the words that she'd just uttered. A simple "you're welcome" would suffice.

But telling her she was welcome carried certain implications; implications that he'd only just now begun to wrestle with in his mind. He wasn't about to speak those words out loud, lest she realize those implications as well.

Given what had just happened, he couldn't think of anything else to say. So instead he closed his mouth, shook his head, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter. I loved building their budding intimacy into it and including his thoughts on the incident as well as how she copes through his eyes was fun. I tried really hard to make his adoration of her a natural thing. So when he's thinking about it he forces himself to downplay it, when he's not thinking about it the truth of how important she is to him and how much of a priority she is comes out.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for those really kind comments you left me. We've only got one more chapter left for the Gauntlet chapters and then we're moving on. It's an important chapter though, it confirms and corrects a few things we've seen in the show over the years, one gaping plot hole that was never really filled in. Peace and Happy Reading!


	125. Visions of Unwanted Futures

He left Belle alone in the Great Room and was more than a bit surprised to find that he didn't want to. The second he crossed the threshold and the door closed behind him, he had the urge to turn back, to sit at his wheel as she settled and spin, just to keep an eye on her. He didn't want to spy as he had before, he just wanted to keep her in his sights.

It was a silly reaction. One that was probably born out of his panic. The truth was that he couldn't stay with her, he had his Gauntlet to see to and his magic to test.

Up in his tower, he summoned Pirithous. He appeared in a dressing gown with an irritated look on his face, but he was there. "Seriously?" he questioned looking him over.

He didn't respond. Just took a parchment and one of the quills that remained after Belle's theft and wrote out a note for the women who were probably spending their night celebrating.

_Meet me at the bluff in one hour, or you'll regret it. -R_

"I'm sending you to another Kingdom. You are familiar, I assume with Maleficent?"

"The dragon?" he asked without interest. "Who isn't?"

"Take this to her, make sure she reads it."

Pirithous snatched the paper out of his hand once it had been folded then stood there and sighed, his contempt for their situation still blatantly obvious. "Alright…let's get this over with," he shrugged.

He rolled his eyes as he used his magic to send him to Maleficent's castle, where he hoped, for his sake, he'd at least turn into a bird to deliver the letter instead of let them see him in his sleeping clothes. With that handled, he allowed his magic to take himself outside. He could have walked, but he figured it was better to avoid Belle and not risk running into her. Outside, this late at night and after everything that had happened, was not a likely place he'd meet her. He started at the hole in the wall, the place that he assumed she'd been taken from. He'd meant what he said to her earlier. Aside from meeting his maid's captors, he did have protection spells to make stronger, but now he also had a murder to plan for. Quiet could help that.

No more animals coming in and out of property. Whether Cruella had paid the boy, enchanted him to lure Belle away, or just taken advantage of the situation, he wasn't willing to let something like that happen again. More protection would help. As for the three of them…he wanted them to die. He'd feel absolutely no guilt about killing them. Frankly, he'd expected them to die years ago when he'd used them to steal his curse. It must have been through mere coincidence that they'd lived to begin with. Now he simply had to finish the job. Belle may have been the maid, and Regina might have been wrong about the fact that he cared for her, but she was his property. No one took his property away without permission and lived to tell the tale. No one treated his property the way they'd treated her and didn't die a painful, horrible-

He sucked in a breath as a vision came to him, an image of the future, without question or doubt.

_He was standing in a room, a home, made entirely of wood. It was small, smaller than the hovel was, but cozy. He felt a sense of ownership about it. It belonged to him. It was his home. One of them. One of many? It wasn't the home that mattered. It was the people he saw there. Standing around him there were women. Three of them dressed in clothes that he was beginning to recognize as what they'd wear in another realm. The women were Maleficent, Ursula, and Cruella. And there before him, sitting in a chair was Regina._

In his ear, the Seer whispered one word: _team._

"No!" he snarled as he came out of the vision. His heart beat rapidly, it always did after a vision, but this was different. Usually, it was excitement or nerves he felt rushing through him. This was anger.

Team, the Seer said. A vision of the three women, with him, with Regina, in the new realm and the word she came up with to describe it was "team"?! He let heat rise in him, let it congregate in a ball of fire in the center of his palm before he threw it against wall of his property. It wasn't enough. He wanted to do more than throw fire, he wanted to hunt, to maim, to destroy! He wanted to kill. Them! He wanted the witches dead for what they'd done. Taking Belle, harming her as they had, demanding the ransom, getting their greedy little fingers on his Gauntlet for all the time they'd had it! He wanted to see them squirm! He wanted to watch them as he squeezed the life out of them just as they had tried to squeeze the life out of Belle…

Again, a vision of the women in the wooden room overwhelmed him. This time, when the Seer said the word "team", she screamed it.

Sometimes he hated his gift. He knew that it was going to be responsible for getting him back to his son, but at times like this, when the Seer came in and spoiled his plans, he imagined what his life would be like if he didn't have her in his head, if he didn't feel like he had to listen to her all the time! He wondered, just once, what would happen if he ignored her now. If he went and killed the women, just how awful would it be? Would Bae be jeopardized?

Once more, his vision of the outside world faded away, and he saw the women in the wooden room. There was no denying the angry shout in his head at the word "team". It was so loud it nearly gave him a headache.

"I hear you!" he growled, forcing the vision away as he took deep breathes. He heard her, even if he wished he hadn't. He'd have to spare the bitches. The Seer wasn't going to settle for anything less than that. Sometimes...he missed the days of being tormented by Nimue…

The hour hadn't yet arrived, but that didn't stop him from going to the Bluff. The sea was a bit calmer now, though it was a bit closer to him, coming in with the tide. He wanted to be the first one there, to be prepared for them, to see the conditions they'd kept Belle for himself.

It wasn't bad. He explored the cave they'd been hiding in when he arrived, looked at the pool of water that shimmered quietly inside of it. There were footprints everywhere, and in the corner, off to a side, there was a large portion of sand that was tamped down as if someone had sat there. It was about the size of his maid's backside. Other than those few reminders, the cave was empty. If he didn't know what had taken place in this spot, he wouldn't have had a clue anyone had been held against their will. It was a well-chosen place for that. Demon's Bluff wasn't exactly a tourist attraction or one the locals would have dared to cross. They could have kept her here for days and no one would have noticed.

And it was tempting, so tempting, to do the same, to teach them a lesson in at least one way. There were more of them, but his magic was superior. He could overpower them, leave them here to rot, to figure their own way out…

"Don't panic, dearie…" he muttered as he felt a scratch in the back of his head from the Seer, a threat to bring about the vision and remind him again. He didn't need it. Against his better judgement, when the time came for him to stand out on the rock and wait for them, he'd already decided he wasn't going to harm them. At least not purposefully. He needed them later, so he'd preserve what was between them…for later. He'd take his Gauntlet, but he'd let them go and ward his home against them, in efforts avoid any more unfortunate interactions with them until his time in the new world. That was his plan.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with secretly hoping they struck and would give him the opportunity to defend himself.

He purposefully kept his back to the cave, expanding his magic to seal it off to their arrival. If he couldn't go after them, then he at least wanted them to stand in the place he'd stood, back to nothing but a cliff drop into nothing.

A stir of magic and black smoke announced their arrival, and he was pleased to see the women huddle together on that cliff. Their faces were stern, but their eyes deceived them. Cruella didn't like the situation, Ursula was concerned, and Maleficent…as always, she was the ring leader.

"Our business is concluded, Rumpelstiltskin. You got what you wanted from that mountain, and now we have what we want."

Indeed, they did. It didn't take a fool to see they hadn't brought the Gauntlet. But he'd expected that. His letter hadn't told them to bring it, and for good reason, that was part of the experiment.

"How did you know I had it?" he questioned. "Did the maid tell you?"

It was the only part about this that didn't make any sense. He'd had the Gauntlet for all of two days, kept safe and sound in his home. Neither Guinevere nor Lancelot were magical, their distance left little time for them to send a message to anyone much less these villains. And he was under the impression, thanks to his vision that prior to being with the Queen, it had been in Merlin's Tower. So little movement, so little time. Yet they'd been very specific to ask for it. He wanted to know how they'd known. If they'd tortured Belle, cast some sort of spell on her…

"You led us right to it, darling," Cruella commented.

"To be more accurate, it led us right to you," Ursula corrected.

"You're shy of uncovered mirrors in that place you call a home, and you're overly cautious about reflective surfaces, or at least you were until the girl started dusting and doing her own shinning," Maleficent explained.

"In the end, it was so clean we could use it as a mirror, our first real look into your castle since you cast your spells to keep us out. We've been looking for a way in for years," Ursula informed him.

"Try not to act so surprised. Of course we know about the spells, you set them when you betrayed us."

Cruella always was the ignorant one. He wasn't surprised they knew about the spells in fact he was glad they did. He'd done what he'd done in order to send a message, and he would have been happy it was received if not for the other emotions going through his mind. He was relieved in a way he hadn't expected to be. They hadn't gotten the information from Belle. She hadn't betrayed him, and they hadn't harmed her to learn about the Gauntlet. That was good. But he was also angry. He needed more spells, in fact he needed to go home and probably create one himself to protect against the reflective surfaces once and for all. He couldn't keep a maid and tell her not to clean. And he should have seen the danger in what he'd told her when he'd brought her on. Her kidnapping was more or less his own fault for not being careful enough.

But he wasn't about to admit that to them, nor was he going to show them any of those emotions. He was angry. He was here for his Gauntlet and to put this to rest until the future came to pass. He just wanted to go home and check on Belle.

"There may come a day when the students surpass the master. But today is not that day. I want my gauntlet," he said clearly before holding out his hand for it. He knew they wouldn't set it there, not that easily at least, but he wanted to make a point.

"We made a deal, Rumple," Maleficent pointed out. "And you never go back on a deal."

"No," he corrected. "I paid a ransom. Quite different. Demanding a ransom from the Dark One is not a deal. It's a death wish, and…"

With little effort he called on his magic, on the spells and potions he'd been attaching to his things, preparing them one day to the journey to the other realm. He sought out the Gauntlet in his mind's eye, and then, with a clink of metal, it was in his hand. His experiment was a success. His potion would work.

"A fool's errand," he finished with a smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

"Whatever you're up to, it'll never work," Cruella called as he turned to leave. "The game is rigged. The villains never win."

"Why don't you join us?" Ursula added in a seductive voice. "Perhaps we can change the game together."

He nearly laughed. As if he hadn't tried that very argument with them years ago. He'd gotten what he wanted then, and he was going to get what he wanted now. Because while he knew the game was "rigged" as she said, his goal wasn't to win. His goal was simply to succeed long enough to see his son again. That would be enough for him. It was easy to win when the goals were attainable and small…and there was a Seer in one's head whispering secrets of the future; no matter how annoying that Seer was or how inconvenient the future she presented.

One day they would join together, at least according to the Seer. But that future was too far down the line to consider right now. Someday was not this day.

"You severely underestimate me, dearie. I always win. And I win alone. I certainly don't need to join you, uh, Queens of Darkness," he taunted before vanishing once more…this time with the Gauntlet in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so now you know, his experiment is a success! Yep, I had him test the potion he created a few chapters back that enables him to call certain items to him. Rumple is good with his tricks, but I figured he wouldn't really trust anything that went untested and this gave him the opportunity. Plus, without this potion here, we start back into the "Rumple comes off as all powerful but sometimes not" plothole. On the show he snaps the Gauntlet into his hands. Okay...why not with the wand, or Robin's bow, or the potion...if he can do something like that why hasn't he just summoned the Gauntlet or the Sorcerer's Hat before, it would certainly be a lot easier than all the trading he does! So here we have an explanation, just like I've given to a lot of those things mentioned that explains why he doesn't do those things but why he can suddenly do it now. Perfect? No, but better than what we had before? I like to think so. And hey, I wondered if anyone had caught on to the fact that all throughout the last few chapters he'd been saying he was going to kill the Queen's of Darkness for what they did, but obviously we know he doesn't. The vision existed to change that mindset for him. And let me tell you, that was a tricky vision to create! I wanted Regina to be part of it so that he would both trust her and be suspicious of her in the future.
> 
> RolfB and Jenigweve thank you so much for your wonderful, lovely comments! I'm really excited to present the next set of chapters to you. They are some of my favorite chapters from Moments and solid Rumbelle times. They're the quiet Winter/Spring Chapters, chapters that I mostly wrote on my own to fill a bit of time in Moments, but with a couple of "seen scenes" added in. And speaking of "adding", there is a twist I've added into one of those chapters and well...I'm nervous. I put a pretty different twist on a classic scene and that sort of thing always makes me a little twitchy. I'm hoping you'll like it, I'm scared you won't, but we're going to go for it anyway! Peace and Happy Reading!


	126. A Quiet Winter Evening in the Great Room

It was getting colder outside. Snow had begun to invade not only the mountain but also the little village below, evidence that it was no longer Fall, but certainly Winter. It was his slow season; the time of the year when no one dared trek up the mountain to make deals. He usually spent more of his time away, simply because it was warmer and busier outside his home. But this year he didn't. He couldn't. After what had happened with the "Queens of Darkness", as he called them, he found himself too spooked. Not for himself, but for Belle. She seemed to have recovered from her ordeal fine enough, but leaving more often meant leaving her alone in the cold castle and he didn't like that. It bothered him, thinking of her stranded by herself in a chilly stone castle, even if he had provided all she needed for the cold weather. Complete isolation for too long seemed cruel, even for him. Of course, the problem with that meant it wasn't one of them enduring the solitude, but the both of them.

Since the incident with Robin, they'd fallen into a schedule that separated them for most of their day. They saw each other at breakfast, at tea, and then from dinner and until they got tired. That had always worked well in the past. They'd been busy doing their own things; her with looking after the castle and its grounds and him with his work. But now, with the Winter, he found himself growing tired of the solitude. Without his deals or trips and the near blizzards that happened daily, he was bored. Nearly as much as Belle was. She wasn't done with cleaning the castle, but with the cold weather taking away her abilities to go outside, her work had slowed significantly. He'd stopped spying on her through the cauldron, just as he'd promised himself he would, and he'd tried to stop teasing her for his own entertainment as well and what he found was that it produced a comfortableness between them that he hadn't had with another human since he'd lived with Baelfire before the curse.

But that was only when they were in the same room.

Lately, once he ran out of work to do in the day and wanted something to combat the boredom, he found himself going to the Great Room to spin. And while months ago, he would have been happy to come into the room and find it empty of her, now he found the emptiness unsettling.

He told himself he sought her out because he was paranoid. He no longer looked in on her from the Cauldron, and unfortunately, the first time he'd done that, she'd been kidnapped. If he wondered where she was for too long, the fear he'd felt on that day when he couldn't find her came back all over again and he wandered the castle in search of her. He always checked the library first, but since the snow had begun, she'd taken to reading outside of her library, finding new nooks and crannies to hide in for reasons he couldn't understand. Sometimes the places he found her in were cozy and warm, other times, they made no sense at all. Like today…

"Oh!" he exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his bones as he found her in another of her unexpected spots. There was a little alcove where the previous King had placed a statue of a gargoyle. He couldn't imagine it was very warm, but there she was, shoved between the stone statue and the stone wall, her legs curled up under her, and her book in her lap. "I, uh…I wondered where you'd scurried off to?" he questioned, using his hands to imitated the practice before wondering why he had. That was a silly thing to do. Nevertheless, she smiled up at him in his awkwardness, and he felt his stomach tighten. He had nothing to say to her. Again. How had he not learned yet?! Time and time again, he came to find her, and time and time again, he found her only to find that he had nothing to say to her once he located her.

"Dusting the books again, I see…" It was a safe comment, a private joke between them. Her favorite method of dusting the books seemed to be reading them.

She smiled at the comment and gave a little nod. "It's, uh…it's my favorite," she admitted with a small blush. What, he wondered, might that be for?

"Oh?" She'd closed the book, but held the cover against her chest. He wanted to get a look at the spine. She had thousands of books up there, it seemed impossible to simply pick one as a favorite. He was curious, which one was it that she was so in love with?

"Yes, the uh…" she cleared her throat, shook her head almost nervously before looking back up at him. "The girl has my name. And it has all the elements that truly make a story great, you know. Far off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, even a prince in disguise."

"It seems to have found a good home then," he concluded, wishing she'd given him a title. It didn't matter that she hadn't. She'd given him a lot to go on, and it was going to be a long Winter. Perhaps sometime after she went to bed, he could make his way up to her library and figure it out for himself. It might keep the boredom away for a few hours.

"Did you, uh…did you…did you need something?" she asked, sitting forward eagerly, as if she wanted him to say "yes".

His mouth went dry. They were back to the same problem already, after barely one conversation. He had nothing to say to her, no reason to tell her why he'd been so curious about where she'd been. Only the knowledge that she looked small sitting in that little space, and cold as well. From this place, he could see snow falling out the window, and it made their Great Room look far more comfortable than this place. Sitting in the Great Room and spinning as she read seemed like a wonderful way to spend the rest of the afternoon until dinner. But how to get her there? He couldn't very well tell her to come and read. She was getting lazy enough on her own. He didn't want her to start thinking that she wasn't here to do chores.

"Ah…the table! In the dining room! It looked a bit dusty to me," he proclaimed suddenly thinking of something quickly enough. It was a lie. One that he had a feeling she knew he was making as she smiled and nodded. She blushed as she marked her page before standing up and running her hands over her long dress to take the wrinkles out. He wanted to offer his hand to help her out of the alcove, so instead, he took a step away. When she was out he led her through the halls and back to the Great Room. Once they were there, she fell out of step behind him as he went to the wheel, and she inspected the table. If she hadn't known he was lying before, then she did now. She'd just cleaned that table and the way she kept the castle, especially this room, it would be spotless. Still, he tried not to look at her as he worked wool on his wheel, and she left the room. A moment later, she returned and made herself busy. She dusted the table that wasn't dusty, and he continued to spin. She made her way around his collection and then dusted it as well as he continued to spin. She brought order to an already ordered room, and he continued to spin, ever aware of every move that she made around him. But it was only when it appeared that she was finishing up that he held his breath. Would she retreat? Go back to the library? Pick a new place to hide? Or would she stay? Perhaps read her book in the chair just like she did after dinner?

When she came back after returning her tools, he was hopeful, but even she seemed torn. He spun on and pretended not to notice, but it was impossible not to take note of the way she looked around the room, then from him to the door, over to his chair, then to the door that would take her down to her own chambers.

"I'm uh…I'll go grab dinner," she finally commented, wiping her hands on her skirt and leaving. He didn't respond to her comment, merely rejoiced at the thought that food was on its way, and that meant that she'd be spending the remainder of the day shut up in the room with him.

He finished off the batch of wool he was working on and checked the thread on the spindle, making sure it was well done. It was perfect, just as always. He sat down at his place at his table and stared into the fireplace. Considering the thread he'd just spun, he'd probably give this spool to Belle. She often did mending, this would be good thread for her to work with. But dinner meant that her work was done for the day. Maybe she'd make that her job tomorrow, that was a simple chore she could do in front of the fireplace, perhaps if she didn't think to do it he could suggest it, or maybe he could put a few holes in some of his shirts to ensure it. That was a good plan. But, of course, it would only take up one day. With the weather the way it was, they'd probably still have a few more weeks like this.

The clinking of china forced his gaze up from the fireplace to the doorway. Belle had returned. And with food in hand. He sat back in his chair, welcoming her service, and tried hard not to smile at her. He did that far too often as it was.

"I uh…I made stew," she declared, setting the table for him. "Should ward against the cold.

He nodded, but again tried not to smile and pulled his arm away so he wouldn't accidentally come into contact with her. When she was done she picked up her own bowl, as she usually did, and sat down to eat. Only she didn't eat. He heard a sharp hiss from her mouth as she sat down and set the bowl down on her legs before flapping her hands in the air. A burn? He'd only just started to shovel the stew into his mouth, but he knew he didn't usually take note of hot and cold the way normal people did. He supposed it was hot. Had she hurt her hands? Did she need healed?

She didn't seem too bad. She kept the bowl balanced there on her lap and stared into the fire, perhaps just giving it time to cool down. He ate another spoonful and tried to focus on something else, anything other than the potential that she was hurt.

He sighed and his mind went back to the conversation they'd had by the statue. Far off places, daring swordfights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…he'd read in his time. He could think of more than a dozen books that had those elements. But only one was her favorite. The woman in it shared her name. That was the biggest hint. Which of the dozen that he'd read had the name "Belle"?

A flinch at the fireplace drew his gaze and his mind back to her. She'd picked up her bowl, but flinched again at it as she squirmed in her seat. Was it that bad? Out of curiosity, he withdrew some of his magic and reached out a finger to touch his own bowl. He removed it quickly. Yes. It was that bad. It wasn't that she'd burned the soup, she must have just pulled it off the fire and not allowed it time to cool. That was his fault, he'd brought her down too early, disrupted her schedule. She was the one who was paying for it now. Ironic, in this place surrounded by snow and ice the worst thing for her was something-

Without warning, Belle was up and out of her seat. The bowl was in her hands but only for a second as she strode quickly to the other side of the table and set it down. He felt his heart stop and stared, watching her actions without inhibition. To pretend to ignore her at a time like this would have been foolish. What did she think she was doing?

As if in answer, he watched as she went back to the fireplace, placed her hands on the chair that she sat in, then gave a tug. And then another. And then another. He tried not to laugh. She was small, so small, and he knew that these chairs were heavy. They weren't the easiest thing in the world to move, and it scraped against the floor with every tug that she gave it in the direction of the opposite side of the table. Her intention was clear. After months of eating in the room with him by the fire, today was the day she dared to do more. Today was the day she dared to take a place at the table.

And he didn't know if he should laugh at her intentions, or shout at her. She was a servant, afterall. There was bold, and then there was brazen. This was both. Taking this step was…courageous? Stupid? Hilarious? He honestly didn't think there was a single adjective that described it. But he knew that it left a feeling in his mind that reminded him of the day he'd first met her at her father's palace. She was an unconventional one. Odd, not only for her age but also for her status, both her present and her former. Odd, outcast, strange…it had been a hundred years since people had called him those names to his face, but as he watched her struggle, it felt like it was only yesterday. Maybe that was why he felt admiration for her. Perhaps she reminded him of himself long ago when he'd wanted nothing more than a hand.

It seemed to take forever for her to move the chair, but she wasn't one to give up. Eventually, she had it in a place that she was happy with. She stood up to full height, and he watched as she rubbed a hand across her forehead, then lowered herself into the seat at the opposite end. She put a napkin gracefully across her lap, avoided his eyes, and picked up her spoon to eat. He watched as she took a few mouthfuls, wondering if she would look up at him as she ate, if she would dare to make eye contact or small talk. He wondered what he would do in such a situation. Would he say something to her? Smile? Frown?

But she never looked up. She just ate. And so he did too.

He stopped watching her, focused on his food, and ate as if there were nothing out of the ordinary even though everything seemed out of the ordinary. He pretended it was normal. When he finished with his dinner, he got up as he normally would, left his dishes behind for her to take care of, and went back to the wheel to finish the spool of thread for her.

When she predictably got up, gathered their dishes back on her tray and left, he let out a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding in. Was he sweating? He hadn't sweat since he was human, why did she make him feel like he was? Why was it that after he'd spent an entire meal watching her and wishing for dinner to be over, all he wanted was to have her back in the room. He shook his head.

Cabin Fever. That was all it was. Being stuck here together during the Winter was bound to have some strange effects on the mind, and this was one of them. They'd be fine as soon as the snow melted, and they could resume their ordinary activities. Activities that would no doubt have him spending less time in her company…

At that sad thought, he looked over at the table and observed the two chairs. It hadn't been like that since Baelfire was here. He hated to admit it, and never would out loud, but he liked it. He liked the time they spent together in this room in the quiet. He liked her boldness and her company. He liked their evenings together by the fire. When the Winter was over, he would be sad to see it go. But it was what it was. It had been well over a hundred years since he'd last enjoyed the company of another human. Perhaps, just this one time, it would be fine to enjoy it.

Before she returned, he rose from his spot at the wheel. He used his magic to put her chair back by the fire, just as she liked it. Then he summoned into his hands the book that she'd been reading, the one she said was her favorite. _La Belle et la Bete_ …interesting. At the sound of feet on the stairs, he set the book on the cushion and quickly returned to his spot at the wheel. Behind him, the windows rattled with wind, reminding him that it was colder out than he could potentially feel. But she might be able to feel it, he realized. With a smile, he summoned a blanket and left it nicely folded on the back of her chair. He started to spin his wheel just as she came into the room, but shifted his eyes from her to the wool in his hand.

She was not as subtle as he was. He knew the second she realized what had been done because she stopped in her footsteps and looked it all over. He averted his eyes when she glanced suspiciously over at him, but returned them when he sensed she wasn't looking. She was beaming, smiling at what he'd left her as she crossed the room to her chair. He felt a fire of pride blaze inside of him as she took the blanket and wrapped it around herself before sitting down to read.

And just like that, all was well again. All was right and ordinary. She read. He spun. The wind blew, the snow fell, and Winter went on. She continued to read. He continued to spin. They relaxed, content in the company they created for one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, in this group of chapters we see a lot of these quiet chapters where there's nothing really happening story-wise, but, boy...there is really something happening. When I was editing, these were the chapters that were lots of fun to read both here and in Moments because they are such "quiet chapters", there's a lot in internal thinking and it's fun to see the places where they make presumptions about each other that are right and those that are correct. And those that they might not even realize! In Belle's version of this, she correctly identifies the reason Rumple comes to look for her is because he's lonely, but here we can see that he doesn't even seem to understand why he does this. It's an interesting dynamic.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments! I hope you'll like the chapters in this little group. Even if they are slower chapters I tend to feel like these are the kind of scenes we always wanted to see as Rumbellers but never could because it wouldn't have made good TV. Good thing there's always Fanfiction! Peace and Happy Reading!


	127. The Danger of Nothing

Nothing to do, nothing to do, nothing to do!

There was nothing to do in his tower. There was no deal to be made. There were no visitors to entertain.

But apparently...there were no dreams to be had.

He'd tried again that night. For the last few nights he'd hoped that, because of his boredom, he might be able to coax himself into sleep. The problem was that every time he lay in his bed and closed his eyes, every time he listened to the howl of the wind or the sharp ticks of the frozen snow slamming themselves into the windows of his room, he remembered why he'd chosen to stay in the mountains. In his mind's eye, he saw Belle bundled up by the fireplace, reading her book, no more than a silhouette against the bright light, but it was just enough to outline her figure. He saw her sitting across the table from him, eating her evening stew or a plum with her eggs, her nose in her book. He saw her as she flit about the Great Room, dusting their table, cleaning his collection, checking the weather behind the curtains. She never looked at him. In each image, her eyes were always diverted, concentrating on something besides him, usually a book. And it was when he began to dare the images to look at him, to interact, to have something to say that the voices crept back into his mind. They woke him from the little sleep he got, leaving him to wonder if he'd ever been asleep at all. Had he dreamed of her? Or were the pictures in his head simply his mind starting to crack from the solitude.

He could leave. It wouldn't be hard. He could leave this place and check in on Regina, mend the rift Belle's kidnapping had caused, proof to her that the woman in his castle was nothing. But the thought of leaving her alone in the solitude never allowed him to do more than think about it.

He knew one thing, he could leave this room. There was no point of laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the whispers in his head tell him not to think of her. But where to go? What was there to do?! His tower would be bitter cold, even to him. Belle's library would be just as bad. He had a wheel here in his room, which was warm enough, but the light was poor. The wheel in the Great Room was a better choice.

Early as it was he picked himself up and changed his clothes and went down to the Great Room. The wool was in his Tower, but he could summon that easily enough to his side if he wished to-

It was early. The sun had only just begun to rise over the horizon, he'd come expecting to be alone, but the first thing he was aware of was another presence in the room. The room was still. But he could hear steady breathing, a relaxed heartbeat, and the crack of a fire. The room was delightfully warm, a sure sign that the fire had been lit for some time. Slowly, with great care, he stepped around the room, half expecting to find Regina waiting there for him in the night, but found instead, his maid.

She was propped up in her chair, wearing the pink dress he'd given her long ago in preparation for days like this, and the blanket he'd given her when she'd first moved to sit with him at dinner was drawn around her. She was asleep. Undeniably. Her head lolled to one side, the hands that she might once have had around her blanket were now at ease, not a tense muscle in them as her chest rose and fell in time with her breath.

Beautiful.

He'd foolishly tried to pretend that he didn't notice in the beginning, when she'd first arrived. And then, when he'd realized he did notice, he tried to pretend it wasn't important. But as he watched her now his mouth went dry and he knew he was nearing an opinion that was difficult to deny. She was beautiful. He could see it plain as day. He could appreciate it. He could understand looking at her now why she'd had so many suitors in her own land, why she'd been desired by so many. He could understand it, but it saddened him at the same time. Beautiful she was. But also smart and courageous. If all they ever saw was her picture-perfect beauty, then they'd missed the opportunity to see all of who she was.

Picture perfect…

Almost picture perfect. Every pretty picture always had a flaw, and so too did she. For bundled tight as she was in her blanket, he could see that at some point, her motion had freed the blanket from her shoulder.

Before he could stop himself, he'd reached out, plucked free the loose end of the blanket and gently tucked it back against her shoulder, covering her completely-

Her chest lifted, her breath became deep, and he snapped his hand back just before her eyes were open and focusing upon him through a thin veil of sleep. And there he was, caught, once more, with nothing to say.

"Last I checked, I don't pay you to sleep," he commented.

She only smiled back, her eyes still unfocused, but he could see her mind working even as sleep still clung to her. There was something painfully familiar about that look...what was it?!

"Last time I checked you don't pay me at all," she retorted before yawning before stretching this way and that so that her bindings loosened and she could stand before him. He stared so long he forgot to reply. "I was tired and cold," she explained, folding the blankets. "This is the warmest place in the castle."

"Ah, well…" how was it possible, how did anyone as beautiful as she was wake up still looking beautiful. And after sleeping in a chair no less! And what had she said? "It can never be a good thing when you are up before me." He wasn't sure if that was a suitable answer to her comment. He honestly couldn't remember what it was. But having no more words to offer her, he excused himself without further explanation back to the wheel. Once he sat and glanced over, he realized she was gone, leaving him to wonder if she'd been real to begin with, or simply a dream.

Their morning progressed as it usually would, as if he hadn't caught her sleeping by the fire and excused it away as though he hadn't caught the help sleeping on the job. After she'd disappeared, she'd reappeared with their breakfast in hand, and he'd moved the chair so that she would have a place to eat across from him. They ate in silence, just as they always did. He stared into his bowl of porridge, she ate while staring into the fireplace, eyes diverted, just like always.

But breakfast was where he found the normalcy of their day ended. For instead of going back up to his tower to work, he found he couldn't think of a single thing to do, nor of a single thing he wanted to do in the cold of that tower, and so he retired to his spinning wheel in the corner. And Belle, instead of taking their dishes away and wandering off to do her chores like normal, he watched as she returned to their room, book in hand and shawl across her shoulders, stared wistfully at the chair he'd returned to the fireplace, and then took up her spot again. An interesting development. She wasn't one to sit idle. Especially when he was in the same room, observing her whims. She moved the blanket he'd left on the back, perfectly folded for her around her body again and took out her book to read.

And that was that. That was how they spent their morning. He spun, she read. The fire cracked. The wind blew. The sun rose higher into the sky. They remained, just as they were. At one point in the morning, he thought it might end when he heard a soft thud and looked over to see that she'd closed her book. He figured that was it, that she'd go to clean or at the very least choose another, but she just sat there. Doing nothing. Staring into the fire. For a moment, he wondered if she was going to fall asleep again, the idea that she'd be so comfortable as to do that with him in the room made him almost giddy and he soon found himself hoping it would happen. But that, apparently, was where the line was drawn. She didn't fall asleep, she didn't read, she didn't get a new book or clean, she just sat there, looking into the fire. It was odd, even for her.

"It's not like you to sit around doing nothing all day," he finally commented. He could remember giving his voice permission to speak. The result was a low tone that he almost hoped she hadn't heard. But for the first time all day she stirred from her place and glanced over at him with inquisitive eyes. He glanced back. Quickly. It was only for a second before he looked back to his wheel, but it was just enough to make the eye contact he so often wanted in his dreams. "Usually you at least busy yourself with a book."

He risked another glance over and found that she was smiling, a sleepy friendly grin that made him want to abandon his work at the wheel and join her by the fire. This was the strangest of days.

"You don't usually spend your day at the wheel," she pointed out smartly.

He nodded casually. "There are always a few cold days like this in these mountains, too cold for even me to work in the tower. Usually I leave."

"Why didn't you this time?"

Her tone confused him. There was something like genuine interest in her question, but at the same time there was a sense of familiarity there too, as if she knew the answer to her own question, but wanted to hear it come from him. Did she know it was for her? That he stayed because he didn't want her to have to be alone up here? That he was afraid someone else might come in and take her away?

He chose to be quiet. He'd started the conversation on a whim, he could end it on a whim. He owed her nothing.

"Do you…do you want tea today?" she asked almost nervously, looking between him and the door to the kitchen. "The lower levels are much colder than here. If you're fine without, I'd much rather stay in here where it's warm."

"The kitchen not warm enough either, dearie?"

But he knew she was being honest. The lower levels were cold. In here, the fire had been blazing all day, the doors and curtains were closed keeping in the heat. Down there, she'd probably be able to see her breath as she waited for the water to boil. But the thing was that he did want tea. He'd done nothing all morning but spin, and at this point, it looked like he'd do nothing all afternoon but spin. He'd been looking forward to it just to break up the day a bit. And fortunately for her, if it was too cold, he was entirely capable of fixing that. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, he summoned from the kitchen the tray she normally used. Upon it sat a pot of steaming tea, the sugar, and even her beloved chipped cup.

"Thank you," she smiled, getting out of her chair eagerly. She hadn't wanted the cold, but obviously she had wanted the tea. Instead of waiting to be served they helped themselves, though he noticed that she didn't drink as he did, merely held the warm cup in her hands. He had a feeling that if he took those hands in his own, as he had the night she'd been kidnapped, he'd find they were cold. This room was warmer than the rest of the castle, but still cool for a human. He hoped she'd sleep in this room again tonight, she'd probably freeze if she stayed in the dungeon. With any luck, she'd fall asleep reading by the fire. Of course, for that to happen, she actually had to read.

"Your book isn't what you thought?" he commented as she made her way back to the chair. By the time she'd spun around he'd summoned her book into his hand. _Her Handsome Hero,_ what kind of read would that be, he wondered. "You've barely touched it today."

"Oh! No, I finished it," she corrected.

"And you haven't replaced it yet?"

"Well," she blushed a little as she came forward again. "I do have my eye set on one about a beanstalk and an ogre, but the weather-"

"Oh, unusual! A day too cold for you to journey into a foreign tale. I never thought I'd see the day."

She gave a small shrug. It was unusual, but he understood it. Her library was similar to his own. Without a fire in the grate, it would be the same temperature up there as it was outside. If he, with his magic, wasn't going up to his tower, it was silly to think that she might. But a story about a beanstalk and an ogre…he thought he knew which one that was-

"So tell me a story," she suggested suddenly, forcing him to look at her and that blush that stretched beyond her cheek and neck to places he could only imagine. "You must have a few."

More than a few…but not so many that he should share with her. He hadn't gotten this far in life by sharing his secrets, his stories, with his maids. Of course, he also hadn't gotten this far by allowing his maids to hole themselves up in the Great Room with him all day.

"No more than most, I'm afraid."

"So…what about these?" she questioned, turning about and looking at the outer edges of his room. His collection. "There are at least a dozen stories in here. What do all these mean? Where did they come from?"

"Here! There! Everywhere!" he answered, being purposefully vague. But being vague didn't stop her from smiling and shaking her head as she moved away from him and began a slow stroll through the room, looking about as if she were seeing these artifacts for the first time as opposed to dusting them nearly every day.

"Tell me about this one," she requested suddenly, scooping up the magic lamp that he'd taken from Regina's Palace what seemed like a lifetime ago. The lamp was empty, its prisoner relocated to Regina's mirror, but that didn't necessarily mean he was willing to play around with magic that no one seemed to understand. His heart leaped into his throat at the same time he set his cup aside and leaped to her side.

"Careful!" he insisted. "Shake it around too much, and some wandering Genie will move in, and then you've got wishes." Ever so delicately, he scooped the lamp out from her hands to set it back on the pedestal. He was right, her hands were cold when she wasn't holding her tea.

"And we don't want wishes?"

"We don't want wishes," he confirmed as seriously as the plague. If she learned anything while she was with him, it should be that.

"What about this one?" she asked, moving away from the lamp and inspecting another piece. "I've never heard of a golden sheep."

He chuckled as he stepped up beside her once again. "It's called the Golden Fleece," he corrected. "It's very ancient. It's supposed to be the skin of a gold flying sheep that rescued children."

She glanced over at him suddenly with an incredulous look on her face. It was as if any second she expected him to reveal that he was jesting with her, but he couldn't. He'd spoken the truth. Admittedly he'd never gotten the damn thing to work, but he'd tracked it down himself. And small traces of magic on it even now hinted at its unrevealed power.

"But that's…that's crazy!" she exclaimed, her face falling serious when he didn't deny what he'd said. "A golden sheep?"

When he was human, he probably would have thought it was crazy too. After doing this for well over a hundred years, nothing was impossible anymore.

"It was reported to be spectacular."

She smiled as she glanced at it again, then turned back and shook her head. "I don't buy a word of it. And…I think it's called the golden fleece because someone cheated you out of whatever you paid."

That earned a laugh. One that he quickly caught and turned into a chuckle, but at its heart he'd laughed at her joke. He hadn't known she could be funny, at least not purposefully in any way that wasn't awkwardness. After one hundred years as the Dark One, he'd learned that nothing was impossible, a day alone in a room with her and nothing to do, and she'd taught him there was nothing she wasn't.

He watched her carefully as she spun back around, leaving his collection and heading off to her seat. He thought of a hundred different questions, a million different things he could say in order to make her stay, to keep their small conversation going, but before he could say anything he watched as she changed direction and went not to her chair but the other side of the fireplace. His stomach dropped as he realized what she'd seen.

"What about this?" she asked, picking it up. His cane was nearly as tall as she was, and he knew for a fact that it was light enough for her to hold with ease in her hands. He stood speechless as he watched her examine it closer, running her fingers along the notches that marked Baelfire's growth from the time he was a baby until the time he was gone. That cane never truly had a place in the castle. It had been useless by the time he and Baelfire had moved in, but he could never bring himself to part from it. Because of that it seemed to roam about like a ghost that haunted him. He'd spot it in one place and use his magic to move it to another corner of the house, then spot it again and move it again, and the process repeated itself so often that at the moment he couldn't even remember how long it had been there, leaning against the fireplace, just waiting for Belle to find.

"Where did you get this?" she asked gently, still examining it as if she'd find something more than what it actually was: a dreadful reminder.

He hadn't noticed he'd stepped closer to them until she turned and nearly slammed into his chest. She didn't jump, merely held her breath as he continued to stare at the cane, willing it to incinerate itself on the spot, knowing that because it didn't because that truly wasn't what he wanted for it. Perhaps talking with her had been a bad idea.

"There must be something interesting…" she urged. He knew her. She wasn't going to stop, not until she got an answer.

"'Tis the cane of an old coward, nothing more," he answered honestly, reaching forward and taking it from her grasp.

"Why did he give it to you?" she asked, her voice quiet but full of suspicion.

That was a story he was wholly unwilling to tell to her. It was a story he was wholly unwilling to tell anyone. So much so that he vowed never to speak of it, to let this life he led now be his past, present, and future. No one needed to know more. He'd written it down once, one time and one time only, in a Chronicle all his own and then buried in the bottom of the trunk and sworn he would never open it again. Perhaps he should find a way to do the same to the cane.

"What did he get in return?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice, a call that drew him out of his thoughts and forced him to look down at her. What were they doing? Why was he standing here talking to her as if he were that old coward all over again?

"I, uh…I asked what the man who gave that to you got in return," she echoed as if she could read his mind.

Finally, an answer he knew all too well. An embarrassing one that he wished never to let anyone see, not even her.

"Misery."

On that note, he turned his back on her and went back to his wheel, the itching in his fingers giving him the urge to spin, to clear his head away from the man who had once used that cane, and return to the one he was now. And as for her? A book about a beanstalk and an ogre…

"That should give you all the stories you desire and keep you plenty entertained for the rest of the day," he muttered, summoning the book from her library to her chair.

When she wasn't watching, he sent the cane away and allowed his fingers to work the wheel once more. It was odd how dangerous a conversation about nothing could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike the last chapter, this one is not entirely "made up". This chapter actually features a section of a deleted scene that A&E released via twitter. It was only a snapshot, a part of the script that I honestly don't know was ever filmed or not, but I loved it so much that I took it, expanded it, and made it a chapter in Moments. And because MK&U is the companion to this fiction...here you have it! A cute little chapter that shows how she's affecting him. Fun fact, when I first released this scene in MK&U (it was a later addition to the fiction), someone guessed that she'd been awoken because he'd tried to pull the blanket back over her, I had to bite my tongue to keep the fact that the reviewer was right a surprise for YEARS! So I'm glad you can finally read it from this side!
> 
> Thank you RolfB, Pi314159Geek, and Jenigweve for your comments on the last chapter. Happy to know I nailed it. Not gonna lie, I'm nervous for the next chapter. This is the chapter that I put a twist on, a classic Rumbelle scene that isn't altered externally, but certainly altered internally. I hope you all won't mind what I did with it, but it does have me all frazzled and scared that you'll hate it. Fingers crossed! Peace and Happy Reading!


	128. A Startling Answer

They'd survived Winter. For the most part, at least. And to his great shock and surprise, they hadn't killed one another. Of course, it was probably still too early to say such a thing. Winter was still around, but the peak of it had gone. Blizzards no longer haunted them. The snow in the valley had melted, and now the mountain was finally thawing as well. It was still cold, but after the temperatures they'd had, the cold seemed downright warm. Business was slowly but surely returning to him as those seeking deals began making their way up to him once more. As for Belle, she started cleaning again with a fury, like spring had already sprung, when the reality was that Winter was in the throes of death.

He couldn't complain, though. Why would he? Their work kept the pair of them plenty busy, and the end of the cold meant that she was back to spending nights in the dungeon, which freed him to roam about once more as he wished. The Great Room, his Tower, the kitchens, in the dead of night when he was certain she'd be asleep, he was free to go where he wanted and do as he wanted. And lately, that included returning to a familiar hobby he hadn't left time for in quite a while.

He'd started reading again. First out of curiosity for the life that she encountered in her books but then because he did love to read but hadn't realized how much until she'd given him the bug. He'd started with _La Belle et la Bete_ , her current favorite, but he wished he hadn't. Romances were never quite his thing and the plot of the book…it was far too familiar for him to be comfortable with it. Half the time he felt like he was reading a biography or listening to a Seer's Prophecy. At least once a page the phrase "too close to home" shot through his brain. It was the story of a wicked man who had been cursed and transformed into a beast along with his household. One day the father of three young women took a flower from his garden, and the beast only allowed him to return if he sent one of his daughters back to him in his place. The youngest daughter, Belle, was the one that had returned. Predictably the pair fell in love, the spell was broken, happily ever after…boring. Obviously, there were things that rang true for the situation he and Belle found themselves in; her name was Belle, more than one person had called him a beast in his life, there was a curse involved, after a terrible deal with an awful father the girl had moved in…but that was about where the comparison stopped.

 _Her Handsome Hero_ was a much better tale. There was romance within it, but it was a subplot. It was all about a young shepherd named Gideon seeking to win over his true love by proving he was more than worthy of her. He faced many hardships in order to do this, curses, spells, magic, villains…but in the end, he succeeded. He became a Prince and later a King, but nothing was more important to him that the love of the woman he'd managed to…well, it had been good up until the last bit.

He liked keeping up on the books she was reading. After their long Winter days together, he'd come to the conclusion that she was something of a riddle, and not just because he couldn't tell what role she had in his future. She'd changed somehow. In the beginning, she'd been a busybody, prying and loud, greedy for information. She'd been judgmental as well, fighting him on even the simplest of decisions and tasks. Now...she wasn't complacent, he didn't think that was ever a word that he'd use to describe her, but she did seem…content, perhaps. She was happy to get up in the morning, have breakfast with him, do chores during the day, pausing only to enjoy tea with him, then eat dinner at the table across from him and sit in the Great Room during the evening reading until bed. He did his best to keep her from his business, and she seemed to have realized that getting involved was of no use to her. It wasn't perfect, but it worked for them. It made things less tense. It allowed him to let his mind wander during the evening hours and allowed her imagination to drift off to wherever she was bound to go in the pages of her books.

He always waited until she was done with them. Completely done. Not just finished reading. For after she finished a book, she usually kept it up in her library on a table for a day or two. Sometimes he caught her rereading passages with a smile or tears in her eyes. And then, one day, when she decided she was truly ready to let it rest, she would store it back on a shelf, and that was when he would swoop in and remove it. He read it for himself night after night in his own bedroom, tried to see things through her eyes, picture the images the way she saw them. It was a way into her head now that she was settled. Sometimes it helped him understand her.

But not always…

She liked order. She liked schedules. She liked her time by the fire reading her book. So why then was she up and moving now?

For months they'd had the same schedule. For months they'd eaten their dinner then come into their Great Room to read and to spin before dinner. That was their evening. So what had motivated her so quickly after returning from the kitchens so rise from her seat without putting her nose in her book and leave the room? In the opposite direction of her cell?! She obviously wasn't going to bed!

He itched to get up, to follow her out the door, to run to his cauldron and see what she was doing for himself, to recall her and ask what she needed…instead he spun. He stayed right where he was and convinced himself it was nothing.

It _was_ nothing! She was free to do as she wished and had been for a long time. Sitting in this room with him after dinner wasn't a requirement or an expectation. In fact, it was a good thing she'd gone. Just because he'd come to expect the behavior from her didn't mean it was good. She wasn't here to keep him company or spend time with him, she was here to keep the castle and the grounds in order. That was what a caretaker did. It was her job to be busy.

But his silent argument didn't stop him from having to hold in a sigh of relief when he heard her step back inside the room with…a ladder?

He tried to keep his eyes on his work, he tried to ignore her, but curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself shifting his gaze to watch her actions. They were not sneaky. She brought that ladder in with her head held high and her back straight and proud. She set it against the wall, some distance from him and his wheel, and it was only then that he paused. He made sure to focus on his wheel. To keep his eyes trained to anything but her but all other senses were screaming at him to pay attention. Finally, he heard the familiar groan of wood, but it hadn't come from his wheel. It was from the ladder. Footstep after footstep, it squeaked and squawked in a way that made his heart race. And probably for good reason. He hadn't known where she'd gotten a ladder from. He'd never set foot on one that easily accessible in this castle, which meant that it was old. Probably nearly as old as he was. Did she know that after a few years, ladders weren't as sturdy as they good be? Did she know how they could slip on the ground, how people could fall? He hadn't rescued her from the Queens of Darkness just for her to kill herself falling off a ladder.

His stomach gave a little flop a second later when he heard the stirring of fabric and a grunt of exasperation. He heard the sound again, and suddenly, without ever looking over at her, he knew what she was doing. She was trying to open the curtains again. He felt a small spark of pride catch inside of him. He knew it. He knew that the day would come when she would try again to open those. It seemed that day had arrived. He should have done something, he should have asked her what she was doing, teased her about it or reminded her that he hadn't wanted them open in the first place just to see what she would do with that information. But with that ladder moaning and groaning behind him and her heartbeat pounding in his ears, letting him know just how nervous she really was, he couldn't find it in him to tease her. He wondered…if he offered to open those curtains for her, would she stop being so foolish and come down to the solid ground?

"Why do you spin so much?"

His hands stopped moving with her words. He wanted to look over at her, but his head told him not to. It had been a while since they'd had a conversation, since she'd asked a question of him that she should have known he wasn't going to answer. It probably hadn't seemed to her like it was a personal question, but for him, it was possibly the most personal question she could have come up with.

"Sorry," she muttered when he took too long to answer. "It's just that you've spun straw into more gold than you could ever spend."

"I like to watch the wheel," he finally answered. Her heart was racing, and the more he imagined her precarious situation, the more he realized the answer wasn't going to do any harm, no matter how personal. "Helps me to forget…"

"Forget what?"

Now that was a personal question that he wasn't going to answer. It had been decades since Baelfire had walked these halls. There was almost no one alive that knew about his son or why he'd become this thing or what his true goal was now that they were separated, and he intended to keep it that way. Baelfire may be safe in a realm without magic, but he wasn't, and as Regina had reminded him not so very long ago, love was weakness.

So he paused for a moment, stopped the motion he was making, then sat back and stared blankly ahead. "I guess it worked!" he teased with a small laugh.

Finally, he risked a glance over at her. Though she was clinging to the top of that ladder for dear life, she let out a small airy burst of laughter and shook her head. She could have pried, had this been months ago when she first arrived she certainly would have. Now she just turned away and went back to trying to tug the curtains free. Up as high as she was, he felt his insides give a little tug every time she pulled on that curtain.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, rising up out of his seat and moving toward her. If she was going to be so insistent, and he'd never known her to be something other than insistent, there might be something he could do quietly. Strengthen the ladder? Perhaps find something heavy to set at its base so it wouldn't slide away? Get her a suit of mail so that she at least had some kind of protection?

"Opening these!" she answered as if it was obvious. "It's almost spring. We should let some light in."

And there she went again. Tug, tug, tug. She was going to hurt herself. But before he could suggest something, she stopped and glanced down at him with wide knowing eyes.

"What did you do, nail them down?"

She made it sound like it was a joke, but he couldn't bring himself to laugh. It wasn't funny. Because all at once he remembered that it was true. Because after she'd opened them last, after he'd given her the library, he'd shut the curtains, and had added nails to the top with a gleeful smile, just to complicate her the next time she tried opening them. He was the reason she was up there dangerously tugging away at the curtains. It didn't seem so funny now.

"Yes," he admitted with a small voice.

Maybe she didn't get it, maybe she didn't believe him, or maybe the problem was that she did. Her only response was to let out another small chuckle and turn back to the curtains. Tug, tug, tug. And just when his soul couldn't handle it anymore, just when he was about to tell her to stop being so stupid and get off the ladder so he could fix this with his magic, he saw it happen. In his head, the Seer sent him a vision.

 _The sound of the curtain ripping. Her body falling through the empty air. The Seer crying out_ "Catch her".

It was the sound of the curtain ripping that brought him back to this reality, to a moment so close to the vision he'd experienced he almost thought it was part of it. She lost her balance, her footing gave way, and she plummeted toward the bone-shattering ground at a speed that would have shocked a human, but made him feel like he was watching in slow motion.

_Catch her._

He didn't need the reminder or suggestion or whatever the hell the Seer thought it was. On instinct, he'd thrown out his arms and stepped forward. Her weight slammed into him and forced him to regain his own balance, he took a step closer to the window and found himself standing in the blazing, blinding light of day. It was dazzling. Though she'd let it in before, it was the first time he was letting himself take it in for decades. And she…

Her heart was thudding away at an unnatural speed. Or was it his own. She was still there, nestled in his arms, looking back at him with eyes that were familiar, and that was when he realized there was something more than familiar about this scene. Or rather, there was something that would be familiar about it.

The images hit strong, with a force not unlike her falling into him. Flashes of pictures, things that he knew hadn't happened yet filled his head and pulled him into himself and away from her.

_Belle in his arms now, her face cupped against his palm, holding her just like this when she was old and wrinkled._

_Belle in an outfit of white that didn't quite fit the world they knew now._

_Belle rushing off to hug a tall man with a case in one hand._

_Belle angry, angrier than he'd ever seen her before or known her to be, screaming at him with a golden bracelet on her arm that reeked of his own magic._

_Belle walking by his side, her hands firmly around his elbow as they moved._

_Belle standing across from something important between them on a mysterious black road, beaming at him as he felt himself beam back._

_Belle with a baby in her arms, smiling down at it as he watched from the door._

There were more. Too many to catch, but as they finally began to slow, one image remained, lingering longer than before. It wasn't like the other images. It didn't flicker in his mind as a single glimpse, this one moved. It was the other half of the vision he'd seen before.

_An anonymous woman with brown hair and a bare shoulder in his bed. Finally, after years of wondering and waiting, the woman turned over to rest her head on his shoulder and wrap her arm over his chest. He felt himself hold her hand there as his other arm wrapped around her back and he glanced down at her. She was still asleep, her eyes closed with a gentle smile on her face as if she was happy he'd returned from somewhere._

_The woman was Belle._

The world came back to him so quickly it startled him, forced him to expel her from his arms so that she gasped when he dropped her. He had the strangest, strongest urge to step forward and apologize, to make sure that she was alright, but instead he took a step back. He withdrew from her space, to a distance that would not be so easy to touch her. His heart was suddenly racing nearly as fast as her own was.

"Th-thank you," she breathed, twisting and turning, straightening her dress as he shifted his weight. "Thank you."

He shook his head and held his hands up, an attempt to keep her and that beating heart far from him.

"No matter," he dismissed. Words were difficult. His mouth was dry.

His wheel. He wanted his wheel. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to sit at his wheel and erase what he'd seen, erase the images. He wanted his heart to stop racing, his skin to stop tingling from the unexpected want of her, he wanted his pants not to feel so suddenly tight in the front! He hadn't had a reaction like that…ever. Not to anyone. Not with Milah, or Margery, or Cora, but with her...

"I'll uh…put the curtains back up."

There was a sound to her words like a chuckle, a laugh, like she was trying to dismiss the entire thing, as if she weren't turning bright red at what had happened. But there was no dismissing it. At the end of the day, she would write it off as a clumsy moment. How was he supposed to write it off? How was he supposed to process what he'd seen? How was he to forget what he'd felt?

"Ah…there's no need," he resigned. He wanted desperately to return to his wheel. The last thing he wanted was to watch her up there for the next hour, worried that she'd fall again and panicking at what he might see if he did. "I'll get used to it."

He felt like he was on fire as he turned his back on her, his insides all twisted up and getting worse by the minute.

What now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...there it is now...out in the open for all the world to see. It's a classic Rumbelle scene, and I dared to add something a little extra to it, and now I'm nervous af. But here was the thing, as I thought this chapter through I always knew there was something really special that had happened in that "catch", something that really altered him and seemed to shake him. And yes, it could be his instinct to catch her, but I felt like that wouldn't quite get to him the way it seemed to in this scene. So, I had the Seer finally reveal this to him. And really, I made that choice too because I feel like the Seer sort of flirts the line of "just another voice in my head" versus having a relationship with Rumple. She chooses to reveal things to him at very opportune times. Too early and something is preventable, too late and things could go awry. She always gives her information at just the right time. So I liked the idea that she didn't give him this info before now because, well, I think he would have stayed too far away from her to keep the future intact. But she shows him now because she knows, on some level, you're in love with her and no matter what you do from here on out this is going to happen.
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for your comments. Up next we've got a very short chapter. It's really the follow up to this chapter, the way he "processes" this new information and how he decides what he's going to do about it...or not do, you'll have to discover it yourself. I'm sorry it's short but it really was it's own chapter that didn't belong at the end of this one. And, I am, of course, now sitting here, waiting for your responses to this chapter since I'm super anxious you'll hate what I added. Please let me know. Peace and Happy Reading!


	129. The Man in the Beast

It wasn't a vision.

That was the conclusion he'd arrived at after several hours of spinning.

What he'd seen in his head, at least after she'd fallen…it wasn't a vision. It just wasn't. Plain and simple.

It was a chemical reaction. It was human. Something about who she was had triggered something left in his human brain, and catching her like some sort of valiant, dashing hero in the books she read mixed with some hormone or other, and that was was it. It may have been a startling and disturbing conclusion for the Dark One to make, but it was a necessary one.

He'd had a good long time to think after she'd fallen off that ladder. When she'd gone to return the foul ladder, that he was certain he'd burn at his first chance, he'd used his magic to remove the nails he'd placed over the curtains, then opened them and allowed the light to come in. Not for himself. Not because he wanted to get used to it. But because he figured it was the best way to keep her happy. Keeping her happy meant she would stay on her side of the room, and he could stay on his. He tried to pretend, to act as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened as though he hadn't just saved her life. He hadn't! She hadn't fallen far. She'd have been badly injured, but she wouldn't have died! Any pains she acquired could have been easily fixed with magic, and maybe he should have let it happen. Then he wouldn't have those images in his head now.

Images. That's all they were.

The second she'd retired to her dungeon, he'd torn out of the Great Room and went to hide in his bedroom, to be alone with his thoughts and work out what he'd seen. It was only once he sat down and started reliving the images that he'd seen that it dawned on him these were not the first images of her that he'd created. In the bed, not long ago, during the long Winters, he'd had other images of her in his head. They got stuck there sometimes, a memory of her doing this or that. Sometimes the memories branched off into fantasy, conversations he wished they'd had but hadn't, things he wished he'd done but didn't.

That was what had happened when he'd caught her. That was all that happened. The image of her in his arms like a blushing bride had gotten stuck in his head, and he'd daydreamed a bit. It was nothing. And as for his response…

He still felt it now, a tightening in his pants and a deeper curling of his insides. It came when he thought too long and too hard about what he'd seen.

It was normal. A chemical reaction. He wasn't proud of it, but it made sense to him, logical normal sense.

He was the Dark One, yes, but even Dark Ones had…needs. The voices inside his mind, coupled with their memories of past lovers, told him that. Dark One or not, he was also a man. And Belle was a woman. A beautiful woman. The first woman he'd really developed something of a relationship with since Cora, though the thought of that word, "relationship", had him sneering all over again. That wasn't the right word for it. They didn't have a relationship because he didn't have relationships. He had business enemies, business partners, and a few of those partners he might go so far as to call acquaintances. But he didn't have friends or lovers, and certainly not relationships. Not after the last time. The closest he'd ever come to that was Cora, but she left a foul taste in his mouth. In fact, she was probably the reason he was so determined not to engage in any human matter beyond business deals. Once emotions came into play, things had a tendency to get a little too…dicey.

He had to stop thinking of it as a relationship. He didn't have a relationship with Belle, and he wouldn't. What he had now was simply a physiological reaction to too many days spent in close confines with her. Their Winter had been calm and quiet. Instead of going off and working, he'd taken some time so that she wouldn't go insane living in solitary confinement. They'd had a few conversations, and he'd found a few things about her that he liked. The end.

This was simply something that was created by boredom. He was a man and she was a woman. She was smart and funny, well-educated with hobbies that made speaking with her so easy sometimes he forgot to censor himself around her, especially on the days that were much too quiet for his taste. And he wasn't going to even try to convince himself she wasn't pretty. She was. It was one of the reasons he hadn't denied it when Regina had suggested it. As far as her looks went, she was gorgeous. Clear, pale skin; red lips; skinny, but a figure that had curves in all the right places; soft hands; a smile that could disarm him; and her eyes! While most royal women had gazes that suggested nothing but thoughts of gossip, Belle's eyes could communicate an entire conversation with just a single look.

She was beautiful. He knew that. He'd known that from the first day when she'd chipped her cup and panicked about it. He'd known even then that her beauty was something he'd have to be wary of. What he hadn't planned on was finding interest in her mind and her work ethic.

It wasn't a vision. It was nothing to panic over, nothing to dismiss her over. He was just going to have to learn to handle it the way he handled everything in life. Silently.

And really…in the end, what harm could a little manly interest do? Other than the embarrassing pressure he felt in his groin, of course. Even that had its benefits. After so long he should have been amazed his body still worked that way. Other Dark One's had engaged in affairs, he hadn't. What was the harm in a bit of flirting with her? In taking a bit of pleasure in her company? He could give into his fears, let these _fantasies_ run his life, and send her away or he could keep her here. He could discover something so terribly unattractive about her that he would lose interest, perhaps even get back to the point that she annoyed him so much that he wanted to send her away. Maybe she picked her teeth, or couldn't sing, or snorted when she laughed.

Those were examples, of course, poor ones because she'd been here long enough that he knew she never displayed manners that were anything less than royal, she preferred hum when she did her work, and her laugh was lyrical. But maybe there would be something else. And, one day, when he discovered the real reason why she was important to the future, when he finally did have a vision, a real vision, of her that realistic and not fueled by testosterone, then he would send her away and have his peace and quiet back, distraction-free.

He tried to ignore the sudden wash of sadness at that thought. She hadn't been here long, not considering how long he'd lived here. Really, she'd been here merely a fraction of the time he had, but imagining this place without her presence here, it almost seemed impossible.

And then, there they were, images in his head of her time here. Belle walking the halls, cleaning the tables, washing his sheets, doing her chores. Belle sitting by the fire in the evening reading...

They weren't visions. All he'd seen where fantasies of his own making, not the Seer's. And a good thing too. Visions like he'd had of her, he'd have no choice but to send her away. Images like he'd made up...there was no need to overreact. It was more time that he had to keep her close, to prove that there was nothing there before he lost interest, got his real answer, and sent her away.

And there was no reason not to have a little fun with her until that day arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know this chapter seems a lot like rambling, like Rumple is repeating himself over and over again, but that's done on purpose. I wanted this chapter to be rambling, I wanted us to see his conflict, to feel a little but if his fear, to maybe even feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. And then I wanted to watch him justify getting that kind of information and not sending Belle away because of it. The big question I got after the last chapter was "but if he sees this future, how is he going to ever believe that Belle is dead?" Simple answer, revealed here, he's going to convince himself that he's made it all up. The Seer revealed that this was going to happen when it did because up until that moment he might have screwed it up. We've said a dozen times that if he knew he was going to fall in love with Belle, he would have stayed clear of her so it didn't happen. At the heart of it, he doesn't want to believe that anything in his life could ever be just as important as his son. So now you have the Seer, giving him these visions, and in doing so it's like she's saying "it's too late, you're already in love with her, you can run but you can't hide, baby!" Which, hilariously, is what he sort of does. He goes to his room, and correctly concludes that if those visions are true then he should send her away. But he's already bound to her and really doesn't want it to happen. So, what else is there to do other than convince himself that he made it all up in his head. He's created a fantasy. So long as he chooses to believe it's not true, Belle can stay and he'll be happy. Clear as mud?
> 
> Big thank yous going out to RolfB, Pi314159Geek, and Jenigweve for your comments on the last chapter. I know the above answer is long and sort of seems complicated to your answer, but after thinking long and hard about it, this really does work for the plot. "How is Rumple going to believe she's dead?" Well, if you are a Moments reader, he's actually already given you the answer to this question. This explantation tracks with something he later tells Belle in Chapter 48 of Moments Revealed and Unrevealed. He tells Belle that he should have known she wasn't dead. At that point, he states that he'd studied true love, that deep down, even if he didn't want to believe it he knew they shared it, and knew that he should have felt something when she died and didn't. Her "death" and lack of feeling that, in the end, played into this fantasy he creates. It only further convinces him that what he saw was made up. So, readers digest: he sees the future, convinces himself it's all made up, and when Regina says "she's dead", that only confirms what he wants to believe and that's that. And how committed is he to this lie-not-lie? You'll have to read the next chapter, where he has a really strange, sort of laughable, but very Rumple reaction to it all. Peace and Happy Reading.


	130. Just A Normal Conversation

The best way to prove that what he'd seen was nothing but his imagination was to show that nothing had changed. He had to prove a negative. And for that he had to make sure that things carried on between them as it usually would have so that when he sent her away one day, he'd know for sure. It helped, he thought, that the castle was getting busier, that people were coming to him again, and they'd resumed their normal business almost entirely. She was cleaning again, he was working, he'd even popped out a few times to see Regina and to spy on George, making sure he was good and broke. The panic hadn't quite set in with him yet, but he could feel that he was nearing that. That was a vision he knew he could trust, it was one that made sense given the Kingdom's affairs.

Still, even with the busyness he continued to enjoy their talks over tea, even if he knew he shouldn't. It was really the only time they spent together acknowledging one another. They shared meals, but they weren't chatty. Tea time gave them the opportunity to talk about the one thing they had in common: books. Well-read as she was, she could talk for hours if he let the conversation go on that long. She saw the stories not only as they were but also the deeper meaning behind them, as well as things like symbolism and foreshadowing that he had to admit were lost on him. He wasn't aware if she knew it or not, but he usually read what she did, just well after she'd read it. Once she placed it on her shelf, he was happy to grab it and explore it secretly.

But today, as he glanced over her shoulder to figure out what she was reading, he was more than happy to find a book that he was familiar with. He'd gotten it in a deal once, thinking it would be informative, but at the end of the day, he'd found no value to it. He didn't want to leave it out in plain sight, considering where it had come from and that it might encourage questions he didn't want to answer, but…had he really put it in her library? Was that one of the books that he'd summoned up there? Apparently, he had, but…she had no idea what she really held in her hands right now. He wondered, what did she make of the strangeness of it?

"I've always been rather fond of that one myself," he commented to initiate the conversation. He enjoyed their talks, and he really thought that she did as well, but sometimes pulling her out of a book could be a difficult task. He'd noticed a correlation depending on how bent over the book she was. If the book rested on her lap and her back was curled over examining it as the rest of her body stilled, then it was a good one. If the book rested on her lap, she kept her head on the back of the chair, her hand idly moving over a leg or the chair's arm, it was less than captivating. Those were the days that she was easy to distract and even did some of the distracting herself. Other times, like now, he could tell that she was itching to return to it. Conversation always brought her some relief, but it wasn't as good as reading it.

"Yes," she agreed with a smile while he poured himself another cup of tea. "I'm enjoying it as well. I've never heard of the author though…" he turned just in time to see her close the book and look at the cover. "'C.S. Lewis,'" she read aloud. "I was hoping to read more from him, unless this is the only thing he's ever written."

"It's the only thing in my library," he answered confidently.

She gave a small nod and cast her eyes down at it sadly. He felt a pain in his chest at her disappointment and had a stray thought that he wished he had better news for her, but he willed both the thought and the pain away. The visions weren't real. He didn't feel anything for her. And he could prove it by carrying on a normal conversation with her and continuing to feel nothing.

"Although I find it hard to believe that a writer like that would only write one book," he added quickly. He wasn't quite the scholar she was, but given the book's background he knew that much. As to whether or not the author had written more…he didn't know. One day, hopefully soon, he would be in a world where he had that answer, but until that day arrived, speculation was all he had. And a little hope could go a long way, especially with someone like her.

"I don't suppose you could look for me?" she asked carefully, looking entirely unsure about the comment. He could understand why. It was a request that made the voices in his head scream at him; all negative things, of course. Looking for a book for her was a far cry from ignoring her and giving her dresses in secret. To actively look for something for her…

But was he going to turn her down because he didn't want to do it? Because it was inappropriate? Or because it was a step that would make those images true? He wasn't afraid of his imagination. He wasn't afraid of it because it wasn't true. And this was exactly the kind of proof he needed. He could look for a book for her, and send her away one day when he learned the truth, because she didn't mean anything and never would.

"I'll look," he answered. She blushed and he quickly put his nose down so he could sip at his tea. There, things could continue as they normally would have and it meant nothing. Nothing! It was just a simple conversation, one like they might have had before his mind had wandered. Everything was fine.

Except for the way her heart raced at the news.

He'd look for the book for her, but she had to understand the chances of ever finding something like it, in this world, were slim to none.

"But I should warn you," he corrected quickly. "Even if more exist, the chances of coming across one are slim."

"Why?" she inquired, looking confused at his statement. Perhaps she really didn't noticed…

"Not all the books in that library are from our realm," he informed her, watching her carefully for her reaction to his words. What would she think of it all, he wondered. "That one, for example, I got in a trade. It's rare, coming from A Land Without Magic."

"Another realm…" she muttered. Her tone was one of amazement and confusion. She trusted him and his words, obviously, but he didn't know if she believed it all, clearly. "Another world? A land _without_ magic?!"

"My, my, my, Dearie, you didn't think this was the only one, did you?"

"I've heard stories, but I never assumed it was true!" she blanched.

"The stories you've heard are true," he smiled, looking into the fireplace. "Worlds of all shapes and sizes, histories and realities, ones you've read about and ones you could never dream up for a thousand years. Worlds too numerous for even I to count. But getting to those worlds is a task all on its own, especially the ones where magic doesn't thrive. Thus why relics, like the one you're holding, are so rare."

He watched as she shook her head looking utterly baffled and overwhelmed. She put her head back against the chair, taking it all in, he assumed. She was a smart woman, it wasn't often he could teach her something, but he liked the way that he had now. She'd heard the stories but didn't believe them. But she did now? Just because he said so, she believed it? Why did that fill him with a gust of pride that made him want to stick out his chest and challenge that fiancé of hers to a duel?

"You suppose it's real?" she questioned suddenly, demanding his attention once more. "Do you suppose there is a world like this?" she asked, motioning to the book. "With a Devil, Wormwood, an Uncle named Screwtape?"

Her eyes were desperate, searching his own for an answer he wasn't entirely sure about. The book came from The Land Without Magic and he'd been told it was a fictional story there, a fortunate thing, otherwise he probably would have assumed that was how that world really was. And perhaps it was, for all he knew? Maybe that land did have devils and angels as the book suggested, but the truth was he didn't know. But was it possible for angels and devils to exist in another world? One with or without magic? He didn't see why not.

"I'm sure it's always possible."

It was a vague answer but not on purpose. If he could have told her definitively one way or another he would have. Just to get that look off her face. The look of…confusion?

"Why did you want it?" she asked quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the book in front of her.

"What?"

He saw her swallow nervously then finally glance up at him. "Why would you want it? The book, I mean. If it came from A Land Without Magic, then it must not hold any magic or power? Why would you want it?"

"It's rare," he responded simply, but he had a feeling that the question was anything but simple. What was she getting at?

"If its rarity meant something to you, it would have a place and be better taken care of than this. Why exchange anything for a simple book weathering away in the library with no magical value?"

"Because it came from that realm," he snapped before he could catch himself. That was what she was getting at? She wanted to know his interest in another realm? Or in that realm in particular? He couldn't understand why that was important to her or to anyone. "I thought it might be helpful, informative, but it's a simple yet brilliant work of fiction and nothing more."

"Helpful? Informative? What-"

Before she could finish her thought or he could figure out what she was working through in her head, there was an unmistakable bang at the door that meant a visitor had arrived. He didn't have any meetings scheduled, so he could only assume it was someone coming to make a deal with him. It was one of the rare times he could honestly say he was torn. He needed to go back to work, it was what he normally would have done, but he could tell that she was coming up with something and he couldn't decide if he wanted to ignore the door and stay to hear her theories or stay just to shut them down.

Leave. Obviously, he was going to leave. The visions were nothing, and he wouldn't pretend like they were something. In a normal day, he would leave her and go make his deal.

"Back to work," he declared, moving quickly away from her and to the door. "Enjoy your book," he tossed over his shoulder, wishing he could stay and enjoy it with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter because I find this reaction that he has to those visions so freaking hilarious. What should he do with information like he's received? What would he do with even the slight possibility that it might be true? Send her away. Put distance between them. Stop finding excuses to be around her all the time! But what does he do? The exact freaking opposite! Why? Is it really because he wants to prove it's not true? Or is because it's already too late for him and he just doesn't want to stop spending time with her?
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigwever for your comments on the last chapter. It's very much appreciated! Also, I hope you love the bit about Rumple reading Belle's books. That's really a shoutout to something we didn't find out about until damn near the end of Moments. In Chapter 39 of Moments Explored and Unexplored Rumple mentions the book and Belle is surprised that he's read it. He answers that of course he's read it, it's her favorite. That was always really meant to just show the difference between Rumple and Gaston. Belle tells Gaston that she's got a favorite book that he should read and he doesn't do it, even haunts him in the afterlife. Rumple, on the other hand, knows it's her favorite and without being asked, he reads it because he wants to know who she is. Stunning quality! Up next we're on to another episode, in fact, the next chapter is going to be a plothole filler. There was something that bothered me about the next episode, so naturally, I did what I do, and I fixed it. Peace and Happy Reading!


	131. A Life-Changing Discovery

This vision was nothing like a vision he'd had before. It was different. Alone in his tower, working diligently, it snuck up on him without any kind of provocation. It bent him at the waist, forcing him to grip the table in front of him for support as he let it wash over him. He took it in, analyzing every detail, his mind trying to assess what it all meant.

It wasn't a vision from this world. It was from a distant future, one that took place in the Land Without Magic.

_He saw the Savior in front of him, the woman he called the Swan. They were standing in a room together, but her back was to him. Though he recognized her here and now, he knew that where he was then, he did not see her for who she really was. In the room, standing in front of her was the owner of the establishment with her granddaughter; also people he knew but didn't know. It was so clear and precise, and yet it wasn't. It was a vision of contradictions. There was something odd about it all, something strange about the scene he was seeing. When he took the entire thing in, he could see the house and the girl, he could see the people as if they were clear, but when he tried to focus on one thing or another, he could see it was all blurry around the edges, fuzzy. Even though he heard words of some kind, he couldn't make them out. They were muted, like listening to a person talk while he held a pillow over his ears._

_And then it lifted. The Swan said something in the vision, and just like that sound came into focus, and so did the scene around him. The fuzziness ended. The owner of the establishment came into focus as she hadn't before, and he recognized her as none other than Granny and her granddaughter Red…though the name Ruby came to mind. And Granny…she made the best burgers in town so long as they had extra pickles…whatever the hell that meant._

_He watched in the vision as he said something, and just like that, the feeling of his ears being muffled was gone. He could hear again. But it was too late. What he'd just said, whatever it was…that was the important part! He knew that. He'd said one word, and it was the most important word in the world in that moment as the Swan turned to look at him._

_"What a lovely name," he heard himself comment, felt the timbre in his throat and his chest, a voice that was his own, one he hadn't used in a long time, not since he was human. His ankle hurt. There was a cane in his hand to counter, something he'd used since this all began._

_"Thanks," the Swan replied in a simple way as they all stared at him unknowingly, still ignorant._

_Granny was the first to move, to hand a roll of paper over the counter at him that was nearly as big as his fist. The month's rent. "It's all here," she stated sharply._

_"Yes, yes, of course, it is dear," he smiled. It always was all there. But what brought a smile to his face was that he'd seen this moment before. All around him, he could feel the faint crackle of magic, it hovered in the air and just below the surface of everything he saw. He'd made it. And as he looked at the woman before him, he couldn't help but feel a bit triumphant. He was one step closer to Baelfire, across the biggest hurdle. Now all he needed was for the rest of the Curse to break. With her finally in town, it was the beginning of the end._

Now that…that vision was probably the most important vision he'd ever had in his life. If not the most important, then certainly the one that made him want to celebrate the most. It gave him information he hadn't had before, information that he now knew was crucial. When the Curse hit, he was going to allow it to take him. He'd figured that much out for himself. What he didn't know until this moment was that he was going to come out of it, "wake up", earlier than the others and with no magic. It had been there. Magic had been responsible for everything he'd seen, he knew that, but it waited like water behind a dam, waiting to be released. That was very interesting.

Suddenly his list of things to do before the Curse was cast grew larger. In the Land Without Magic…how was he to access magic? How could he get his hands on it and even the playing field in his favor? How could he make a Land Without Magic magical? And how was he to make the arrangements to wake himself up from it early? Before the others? He knew. In the vision, he'd made a point to mention the girl had a lovely name. Before that line, he'd uttered a single word and so had the girl. It was her name. Her name was the key. But he hadn't been able to hear it all because the vision hadn't told him!

"Ah!" he kicked at his table in anger so that it shook below him. His frustration was building, but it wasn't to the point of any more violence than that. A vision that gave him hints but no answers…it could have been worse, he reminded himself. It could have been about Belle. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the woman hadn't been on his mind at all in the vision he'd had. More proof. If what he'd seen of her was a vision and they were to be star-crossed lovers or some nonsense, he would have thought that he would have thought of her immediately after emerging from the Curse. He'd thought of Baelfire. But no Belle. Further proof what he'd seen before was nothing to-

There was nothing to worry about where Belle was concerned because what he had to worry about was outside his castle. There was an intruder—someone with magic enough to get beyond his borders. Great magic. Nothing like the Apprentice's magic, but it was fast-moving. Just before he could transport himself downstairs to the front door, he paused, sensed the magic again, and realized…it was airborne. And headed straight for his tower window as though it knew where to find him.

Fairy.

The devil entered in without giving any kind of warning. In a whirlwind, the Blue Bug flew in through the window, located him, and buzzed bravely up to his face, allowing him to see her features. The Blue Fairy was not in a happy mood.

"Where is it?!" she demanded.

Ordinarily, he might use his magic to kick her out of his tower and enjoy watching the show that would bring, but with her words he only smiled. It was the same triumphant feeling he'd had in his vision. Oh, he couldn't wait to see what that curse would do to her and all her little friends.

"Where is what?"

"The Curse, Rumpelstiltskin!"

"The Curse?!" he blanched with false ignorance. "The Dark Curse?! Well, how am I to know that? You said I'd never find it!"

"Enough!" she shouted at him as though he was one of her little slaves to be commanded about. But he answered to no one, at least no one who didn't hold the dagger in their hands. "Your accomplices turned you in once we tracked them down. When we explained what they'd done, even they acknowledged that it wasn't something to be trifled with."

"Well, then it's a good thing I'm not asking them to trifle with it."

"That Curse is Dark!" she spat. "Darker than even you can imagine! You can't cast it!"

"Yes, and you've seen to that, haven't you!" he shouted as his anger finally bubbled over. "Or perhaps you've forgotten! The Curse requires a heart, and it won't be just any heart will it, not for a curse the likes of that. It'll be for something stronger—a sacrifice. The heart of the thing most loved by the caster. I can't cast that Curse because the thing I love most dwells elsewhere! You took him from me!"

"For the last time, we didn't take your son. You drove him away. And I'll say it again as I said it before, I'll sleep easier at night knowing that the power to cast it does not lie with you, but all the same, I will have it back! It needs to be guarded, protected!"

"I'll do no such thing!" he roared. "Unless…"

He cooled as a single thought popped into his head, a thought that all Dark Ones had all the time, he just hadn't thought to use it until now. Just how desperate was she? And how much truth had she told him?

"Unless…" she echoed.

"Unless we make a deal," he dared. Part of him knew before he ever said the words what her answer would be, but he wanted to make sure. He was about to offer her the sweetest opportunity of all, one he was certain she would take if she could. And that was what he wanted to know. Not would she, but could she…

"A magic bean for the Curse?"

The Blue Fairy rolled her eyes and shook her head with obvious irritation. "I've told you before, there are no more magic beans!"

So that was that then. She hadn't wanted to give it to him a hundred years ago under that pretense, and now that he had the biggest bargaining chip available to him, he was sure that if she had them, she would have traded them over. One bean to ensure the happiness of everyone in the realm…she'd have made that deal in a heartbeat. There was little doubt in his mind now…beans were truly off the table. But that didn't mean it was the only option.

"Then find me something to get back to my son," he growled.

"There are no ways!"

"Fine! Then I'll sleep better at night knowing that the last way back to him is safe in my hands. And until you find me a way back, I'll have nothing more to say to you," he dismissed, walking over to a chair he kept by the fireplace. He smiled as he let his feet rest upon the wooden table and wondered, did she realize the Curse lay concealed just behind him? That no matter what she tried, she would never reach, it for it didn't respond to her kind of magic now.

"Perhaps you should have been more careful with your possessions, dearie. Perhaps it's safer with me, especially since you're so certain I haven't the abilities."

"It's not your abilities I doubt, Dark One!" she responded, flittering over. "That Curse can never be cast, Rumpelstiltskin. Whatever you have planned, it may get you back to your son, but it will bring great harm to all around you, rip them apart, sons from their fathers! The desire to see that Curse cast just so you can selfishly have what you want at the realm's expense makes you no better than your own mother!"

The room grew suddenly still and quiet at her pronunciation. Now that was more than just an angry insult. All these years, the Blue Fairy had never not once let on that she knew anything about his mother. But now…

"What does my mother have to do with any of this?" he questioned. He watched her intently, stared at her tiny face for any nervous ticks, any kind of suggestion that she would provide the information he was asking for.

Her steely gaze held. Perhaps that was what gave her away. If that comment was just to make him feel bad, she'd have been able to respond back in the same way she had before. Now she just stared, a secret locked away in her memory she was obviously wholly unwilling to share.

"Do not go down this path, Rumpelstiltskin," she pressed calmly. "Return the Curse to where it was. Do the thing your mother never could."

As she left, he felt his heart jump into his throat and an odd sensation chill his blood as his mind began working. All at once, he remembered the first time he'd held that Curse. There had been Darkness there, Great Dark Magic like he'd never felt before. But underneath the Darkness he'd found something else, something that had surprised him and confounded him all at the same time.

Fairy magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so freaking important for so many reasons! For one it starts with a vision that points him in the direction of learning Emma's real name. Maybe you've noticed, but up until this moment he hasn't really cared enough about her to want to know her name. Now he has that clue. For another thing, it finally alerts "the other side" (for lack of better term) that Rumple has the Curse and intends to use it. And it's not just the fairies that know and understand, now it's the Queens of Darkness who understand what they've helped him get. So, basically it sets up their (Maleficent's) desire to see it protected. And finally, this will be more obvious in the next chapter, but this chapter sets us up to fill a plothole, one of the biggest plotholes I have for the coming episode. It tells you why Rumple, who has never really cared about his mother or who she is or what she's done, suddenly drops everything in regard to Bae in order to summon her. Seriously, just like the Sorcerer's Hat storyline, I hated it because this story line deviates from everything we know about Rumple. It's as if he wakes up one morning and says "Huh, I know things are starting to come together with the Curse and I'm at a crucial moment, but I'm bored, I think I'll finally summon my mother today." I didn't like it and I didn't understand it. So...when there's something I don't like or understand...I change it. Or explain it. We'll get into it a bit more in the next chapter, but this conversation, what Blue says about his mother, acts as the trigger. It's what sets him off in a big way and sends him on this fool's errand. Now, with the mention of his mother and the Curse, suddenly it's relevant to Rumple and relevant to Bae and that makes it relevant to our story and not so much a random thing.
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Pi314159Geek for your kind comments on the last chapter and all the chapters for that matter. In the next chapter, we're going to explore what this conversation with the Blue Fairy leads to. We'll get into Rumple's state of mind a little bit more so that we understand what happened in this random-ass episode. Let's get to it, shall we? Peace and Happy Reading!


	132. Far From Fine

"Are you alright?"

He was shocked when he looked up from his work to see Belle standing before him, tea on a tray. It was evening, dinner should have been hours ago, but he'd worked through it just as he'd worked through it for the last few days, ever since the Blue Fairy's visit. He felt like it had been days since he'd last seen her...had it been? He'd found it so hard to focus after that visit it was difficutl to remember.

"Fine, fine," he answered, waving her away, hoping she'd get the message that he didn't want to be bothered. Unfortunately, he knew her well enough at this point to know that she was not the kind of person to be easily dismissed, especially after these last few days. They'd gone in almost a single heartbeat from friendly conversation over afternoon tea to damn near no communication as he worked constantly.

"It's just that lately you've been distracted…different."

Different. Well, if she'd gotten news like he'd gotten perhaps she would find that she was different too. But distracted...was that what he was? Distracted? It was a strange word to use when he found himself suddenly feeling more dedicated than ever.

"I am no different today than I was a hundred years ago or will be a hundred years from now," he answered. He'd tried to keep his tone light, but unfortunately, in order to do that, he'd had to squeeze his jaw shut, and it only succeeded in making him sound as if he was snarling at her. She took the hint and left his workspace, leaving him with a feeling like a rock in his belly as he watched her go.

For once he hadn't meant to be cruel, he'd even tried hard not to, but the truth was he was so wound up he didn't think there was any kind of alternative to being the way he was right now. Days ago, the Blue Fairy had left. For days he'd been like this. She'd left him with many emotions after her riddled pronouncement, and those words had left him feeling anything but "fine". How could he be fine? He'd been a fool.

After her departure, he'd brought the Dark Curse out again, a rarity all its own, even though he knew exactly what he was going to find. He knew it because he'd sensed it the first time he'd ever held the damn thing.

Fairy magic.

And Dark magic.

The magic was built into the damn thing; embedded right into the fucking scroll. He could feel it just as he had from day one, nothing had changed. So long as the person with the right heart, the right motivation was the one casting it, their magical prowess would be of no consequence. That was why, if he could find a way to create a spell of true love and then match that true love to specific people, say Snow White and Prince James, then a single drop of the potion created onto the parchment itself would be enough to weaken the Curse. He didn't need any words added, no caveats, no adjustments. One drop of true love, the most powerful magic in all the realm, would be enough to allow the child, the true product of that union of love, to become the savior to the Curse.

True Love was the only magic strong enough to overcome the Dark Magic on the scroll.

Dark Magic and Fairy Magic…together…he'd never thought to question how that was a possibility and he was an idiot for not considering it. Now he did.

Fairy Magic was always Light, but this…this was Dark magic, very Dark indeed. After a hundred years of practicing his craft he knew that it wouldn't have been possible for traces of the fairy magic to remain while the Dark Magic was there, at least not this much of it. Little bits of both could potentially live side by side, but this much Dark Magic should have swallowed the Fairy magic whole. How could he have gone this long without fucking putting it all together, adding up the pieces?! Why had he needed the Blue Bug to give him a hint?!

The only explanation was that the Curse was born of a fairy who was of the darkness.

There had only ever been one of those as far as he knew.

The Black Fairy.

His mother.

Just the thought of that had him wanting to throw something across the room. For the last few days, ever since his epiphany following the bug's visit, he'd been combing through books, kicking himself every other second because the damn answer had been in front of him the entire time!

He'd been researching this Curse for a century, focused on it before it was ever even in his possession, practically knew the damn thing inside and out without having to ever see it! In the beginning, he'd read hundreds, maybe even thousands of origin tales for it! All of them were speculation, no one really seemed to know where the Curse had come from for sure, but now that he had the answer, he was struck by just how many hypotheses involved the Black Fairy. He'd spent an entire night going through those books, counting it out, making his calculations. More than half of all the theories he'd read included his mother. Between that and what the Blue Fairy had said, he was more than willing to believe that he knew who was responsible for the Curse.

Unfortunately, that was the only thing he knew.

When, where, and why, especially why, were questions that remained unanswered.

When had she created it? Before he was born? After? He knew so little about her, about his own timeline. His earliest memory was sitting in front of a window looking at the stars and thinking that he'd dropped from the sky because he was so unlike his father and had no mother! Had the Curse been in existence even then?

Where had she done this deed? The Black Fairy had been banished to another realm, that was always what he had been told, always his own understanding. But if she was there and the curse resided here, did that mean it was something she'd done before she was banished? Was it the reason that she'd been banished?

But the most important question of all was why. Why had she done this? What had led the Black Fairy, his own mother, to create a Curse like this? What had she intended? With her magic so clearly still imbued within the parchment, if she had some other kind of incentive, something that he didn't know about, it might still come through.

He needed to know.

That was why, in the dark of the night, he took his dagger and went deep into the forest to a small clearing that allowed him to look up and see the stars. He held his dagger high over his head as he watched, pushed magic deep into the dagger, and then into the air around him and summoned the one person who had ever dared to tell him anything truthful…

"Reul Dearg…"

He held his breath as he waited, looking slowly about, this way and that for a spark of red. But the air was still.

"Reul Dearg!" he commanded, pushing even more into his dagger for the summoning.

But he had been the Dark One for well over a century; he knew the feeling of nothing but his own magic.

"Red Fairy!" he cried so loud his voice echoed through the forest. He hadn't seen her since she'd saved him as a boy. According to her, she was his fairy godmother. She should have answered him when he called! She was the only one in all his life who had ever given him answers, real answers! She was the one who dared to tell him what the Blue Fairy never had, that his mother wasn't dead, that she was the Black Fairy! If he was ever going to question a fairy and actually believe her, it would have been the Red Fairy.

A summoning should have worked.

But she didn't come.

He lowered his hand and stumbled back onto a log. He managed to slip his dagger back into his boot before hanging his head in his hands and rubbing his face.

He wasn't fine. He wasn't even in the same village as fine. He was tired, exhausted. For the first time in a long while he felt like if he went home and laid down in his bed, he might actually be able to sleep…at least until he realized he was dreaming of Belle…

He shook the images of his latest daydreams of his caretaker out of his head and took a breath. He could figure this out. He could. He just had to take a breath, clear Belle out of his head, banish anger and confusion and pain out of his mind, and start thinking like the Dark One.

If he had half a chance of getting this Curse off the ground as he wanted it to in order to get back to his son, then he needed to understand it. He needed to know. The Blue Fairy wasn't going to talk to him. The Red Fairy wasn't responding. He could try his cauldron, try his crystal ball, but aside from the fact that he wouldn't be able to hear what he saw, there was the issue that guarded as this Curse had been he had a suspicion that Fairy Magic would interfere. That left one option. One option that he really didn't want to consider. One option that even the voices hated.

He could ask the Black Fairy, herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but I felt like it was necessary in order to bridge the gap between the last chapter and the next chapter properly. That being said, and I think this will become clearer later, I'm in the camp that thinks Rumple was always looking for a reason to talk to the Black Fairy, this just finally gives him the excuse to do it. Hm...perhaps that's why when he finally talks to her, he doesn't really ask her the right questions...
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments thus far! They are always wonderful for me to read. For anyone who is still completely lost and clueless as to where all this Black Fairy stuff is going, let's move on to the next chapter and we'll finally really dig into the 6x09 chapter! Peace and Happy Reading!


	133. The Right Plan

_"Jack and Jill went up a hill to fetch a pail of water, Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after…"_

He'd been hearing that singsong rhyme in his head all night; almost as soon as he'd decided to summon his mother and ask her about the Curse. The rhyme sounded like something a child might sing, but it was known by adults and children alike throughout the land where the pair had once reigned. A stupid couple, really. Jack had been the bastard son of a King. He took a woman named Jill for a wife. In his youth, Jack's thieving brother had risen to the throne, but Jill had convinced Jack that he would make a better king. He'd managed to gather some followers, risen against the King, his brother, and then, because it really had been a stupid path to follow, his brother had crushed the rebellion. Anyone else would have probably made sure Jack and Jill were both killed, but being that special kind of evil, his brother had a different idea in mind. He'd killed every last supporter his brother had, man, woman, and child. Meanwhile, Jack and Jill were permitted to be released back to their farm, to "live with" what their actions had brought. Now it haunted them just as much as the silence from their friendless life. For the King's lesson was well remembered with the people. No one dared to make Jack and Jill their friends after what had happened. The King had made it so that exiling them would have been a far kinder fate.

Proof of that came years ago, when, after the rebellion, Jack had slipped coming down a hill with a pail of fresh water. He'd injured himself, cracked his skull, his brain had swollen, he was on death's door, but still no doctor had come to help him. It didn't matter how much Jill cried, how many doors she knocked on, the doctors she stalked, no one was interested in assisting her. All she'd been able to do was make Jack comfortable, and turn to someone far more sinister to help her...the Dark One.

And why did this matter? Why was any of it important? Why was he so suddenly consumed with thoughts of this pair now?

Because after the Blue Fairy had left him with the idea to summon his dear mother, hed done his research. He'd found the summoning spell that was necessary to get his mother to the Enchanted Forest. It wasn't as simple as raising a dagger and calling her forth from wherever she was. She was in another realm, and that meant that she required a special summoning with special...requirements. He needed bait.

Summoning someone from another land had to have heart to it. There had to be a connection of some kind. If his childhood had taught him anything about the Black Fairy, it was that she was always happy to come and take away children from those that didn't want them. And fortunately for him...he knew just how to get his hands on a child.

When he'd healed poor, throneless Jack, he hadn't asked for anything in return except for a payment one day in the form of the most valuable thing dear Jill possessed. That idea had come from the Seer herself. And now he knew why. A few months ago, Jill, all on her own, without help from even a mid-wife, had given birth to a baby boy. The boy's name was Gideon. "Gideon"…it was one of the names that the Seer had placed in his head when he'd first taken on the power. He was now convinced this was why. He was meant to take the child, to use him, to speak with the Black Fairy. It was imperative for moving forward, for planning the Curse, for finding his son! Gideon was hardly an unwanted child, a few hours of watching him with his parents told him that, but he was hoping that the Black Fairy wouldn't sense that. He'd come this far; he couldn't risk something going wrong now.

The young parents startled when he announced his presence that afternoon. He couldn't blame them, he'd waited until Jack returned from the well to make sure both parents were present, then appeared behind them and interrupted their quaint little conversation. They'd never seen him coming.

"Rumpelstiltskin, wh-what are you doing here?!" Jack questioned.

He laughed. It was a reflex, merely an act. It was all to hide the truth. The truth was that it killed him to do something like this. All around, there was an element of darkness to his current plan that he'd never sensed or felt before. But, close as he was to getting his son back, he felt certain that he had no choice. This was the only plan he had. He had to make it work.

"What kind of greeting is that?" he asked of Jack. "No, hello? No, how are you Rumpy? Quite rude for someone who once saved your life, don't you think, Jack?"

"Of course!" Jill chimed in, prepared to save the day as she always was. "What my husband meant was, it's just been so long, and we weren't expecting you. Would you care for a cup of tea, we have fresh water."

"No, thank you, Jill, but I won't be here long. You see, I've just come to collect on the deal we made." The parents looked nervous as they looked back and forth between each other. He hated this. He just wanted to get it over with. "Perhaps I can refresh your memory. 'Jack and Jill went up a hill to fetch a pail of water, Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after.' And then Jill went to see the Dark One, and he agreed to fix Jack's crushed skull...for a price!"

"I remember," Jill confirmed. "You saved his life." Their hearts were pounding and both were hardly breathing. They were terrified. "And I am happy to repay you with what I promised...with the most valuable thing that I have..."

He watched as she approached him and pulled from her finger a ring with a diamond on it. The same ring she'd looked at sadly on the day that they'd made the deal in the first place.

"I can't take that!" he laughed, shooing her away. He kept up his act despite the fact that he was just as terrified as they were. He was terrified that none of this would work, terrified that something might go wrong, terrified of the information his mother might hold. But he needed to know. He needed to do this.

"You can't? Why not?"

"Because we both know that was the most valuable thing you had _then._ But...that's no longer the case...is it?"

"Of course it is. What else do you think that we have?" Jack demanded.

He wanted to sigh and roll his eyes. People could be so stupid, only seeing value in money and earthly possessions. They so rarely considered their flesh and blood something of value. Perhaps this would be good for all involved, he'd talk to his mother about the Curse, they'd learn the importance of young Gideon.

"What about that thing hiding over there!" he pointed to the basket that Gideon currently resided in, making small little noises of his own entertainment as his parents went pale. "What don't you show me that!"

His stomach turned as they blanched, he prepared for a fight, but his heart couldn't take this. He hated to take a child from his parents, if only temporarily. He hated to use Belle in the way he was going to. But most of all he hated his mother! He hated that he had to summon her, he hated that this was what he had to do in order to do it, he hated that this was how they were going to meet for the first time! He hated that she was forcing him to do this and had nothing but contempt for the entire situation. But with no choice, he suddenly wasn't interested in acting. He had no interest in drawing this out any more than he had to. His parents too stunned to stop him, he removed the blanket from the basket, glanced down at the baby, and with barely a few words of departure, he took him. They fought him, but only barely. They cried and screamed. It made him cringe. Their reaction reminded him of went he guards had come through his former village to reap the children for the army against the ogres. Then, just as Jack and Jill did now, they'd done nothing because what power did anyone have against the Dark One?

He'd bring the child back. That was his plan, that was always his plan! But he didn't dare say it. He didn't want to give them false hope in case something went wrong tonight...or now...

"No! Put down that child!" All at once he found his path blocked by none other than the lying secretive bitch herself, the Blue Fairy! If he didn't know any better, he'd say that she'd followed him here, that she was worried about what he might do with the information that she'd given him. But unfortunately, he did know better. He knew magic better than to assume she'd been following him.

"Let me guess! Fairy Godmother!"

"Yes!" she growled in response. "My duty is to protect him!"

She raised her wand, but he didn't hesitate. He didn't move as she cast her spells. He didn't do anything to defend himself because he didn't have to. Magic had a law all it's own. His contracts were legal and binding. And that meant she couldn't do anything. Her magic failed because his claim to the child was fair. All he'd done was produce the contract Jill had signed all those years ago. The child was his. He could do whatever he wanted with it. The Blue Bug was so caught off guard that he didn't even have to try hard to use his magic to sweep her away.

"No!" Jill cried. He turned just in time to see her falling to the ground. "Please! Please, you tricked us. If you take our son, he will never know how much we cared about him."

"Oh..."

He hated this. He hated it because he'd been on the other side of this and knew how it felt. That was the only reason why he was so determined to make this work. If it did, then by this time tomorrow they'd have their son back, and he'd be one step closer to having his own back. But he had a reputation to protect, better heartbreak and a hard lesson learned now than a ruined reputation...

"Now you should have thought about that before you made a deal with the Dark One or entrusted a fairy to protect him...too-da-loo!"

The child secure, he had to make sure the next part of his plan was in place. He'd spent half of his time the previous night looking and looking for a summoning that he could translate…but sadly, all he ever found was in a fairy language he couldn't read. Even the Dark Ones were suspiciously silent when it came to translating it. However, he had seen this language before, just once, he'd seen these characters on a book that was sitting on a nightstand of a certain princess whose mind he'd saved.

Belle had an affinity for languages. He'd known she was intelligent before she arrived, but now that she'd been here for months on end, he knew that she enjoyed translating languages. She stood a higher chance of translating the spell than he did. But he couldn't just ask her. She'd ask too many questions if he asked her. She didn't know it, but by the time he brought Gideon into the castle, he'd already begun to manipulate her as well…even if it did make his stomach churn.

"Rumpelstiltskin, you're back!" she exclaimed almost cheerfully as he strode into the room just before tea time. She was happy to see him; she almost seemed excited about it. After skulking around his tower for these last few days, ignoring her, skipping meals, he almost understood it. He tried to maintain a confident gate, to keep his heart steely in her presence, to tell himself that he didn't care, but he couldn't help but wonder what kind of relationship they'd have after all this was possible, after he locked her in his tower and took the child home. Would she trust that was what happened? Or would she think he'd sold the child to his mother?

It didn't matter. She was nothing to him, and as soon as he realized the real reason the Seer wanted her he'd send her away and prove that.

"I uh…I did the wash, and I polished the silver, like you asked."

"Good. Now you can take care of this."

Without looking at her, he dropped the basket with Gideon in it onto the table. Immediately, the jostling woke the sleeping child. Every instinct he had inside of him as a father demanded he move forward, lift the baby into his arms, and comfort him back to sleep. Instead, he walked away and left Belle to explore what he'd left her.

"A baby?!" she shrieked, looking into the basket at him.

"But where-where did it come from? What…" she stuttered, looking about as if it had appeared out of thin air. "Where are it's parents?"

"They no longer matter," he dismissed as he forced his eyes down onto some books he'd purposefully left out before his departure. He'd hoped that by leaving them there, Belle might be intrigued and tempted to look through them, but they appeared to be in the exact same place he'd left them. That was fine. It only meant that he'd have to try and make her temptation to look irresistible. He had to do this just right. He couldn't let himself be absorbed by her or the child's cries. "The child's mine now."

"Y-yours?" she blanched. "What you…you stole him?!"

"Yes," he lied. "Scandalous, isn't it?"

He glanced up just long enough to see her face morph. Shock. Horror. Dread. Disbelief.

Disappointment.

He could tell that she was working up to say something, opening her mouth to scream at him, to give him a piece of her mind. After what had just happened with his parents and what he intended to do with him, he would have happily admitted he deserved, but before she could say anything, Gideon let out another shriek.

"Shh," she hushed, finally pulling the child into her arms and bouncing him up and down like an expert.

_Belle with a baby in her arms._

The flash he'd had the day he caught her forced its way into his mind's eye, but he quickly pushed it out.

"It's okay. Shh. Oh, shh…" she cooed, bringing him back into reality. It wasn't a vision. Merely a fantasy, male hormones running wild! Besides, this didn't fit that fantasy, the room was a lot darker in that fantasy, clearly at night. This was mid-afternoon. It was only further proof that it meant nothing. Surely it was just some embarrassing evolutionary habit of seeing attractive women with babies.

"What kind of beast steals a child from its parents?" she questioned with fire in her voice. "I mean…what happened to you that made you like this?"

Well that was the thing, wasn't it. He didn't know. But maybe, just maybe, if things went according to plan, he might find out. If he had a little bit of extra time after he'd asked the necessary questions, of course. His questions. Not hers.

"You'd do best to stop asking so many questions," he responded coldly before plucking the scroll with the summoning free from the books. "Ahh, there it is!" His pronouncement drew her quizzical gaze. She was intrigued. Good. Now he just needed to get her to translate it for him. "I have work to do. I'm not to be disturbed."

"Well, at least tell me his name so I can soothe him! Or did you not even bother to find out!"

Give her his name? No. Everyone knew the second someone or something had a name an attachment formed. This child wasn't staying. It was his hope that in twenty-four hours, he'd have him back home with his family. She didn't need to know a name. She just had to look after him for a few hours. And want to protect him. Yes. He smiled as a new plan formed in his head. She hadn't done any translating when she'd put the scroll right in front of her, but if she knew he was going to use it against the child…that might be what he needed to get her to do the translation.

Of course…if he just told her about Baelfire, if he told her what he needed, she might also do what he wanted. She might even take his side.

No. The last time he'd told anyone about his son was Cora. He wasn't about to repeat those mistakes again.

"Why would I?" he giggled aloud. "A name's a special thing. You don't waste it on something you've no intention of becoming…a-attached to."

That was good. He'd done well up until that last little stutter. He nearly believed it himself. But more importantly, the suspicious look in her eyes told him that she believed him, and that was enough.

"What do you mean? What do you plan on doing with this child?!" she demanded frantically.

"I shall be back at sundown," he instructed strictly. "Don't think about trying to hide it. I'll find out."

"You-"

"Ah-ah-ah!" he hissed at her. He'd given her a timeline, he'd given her a child to protect, he'd made a show of taking something important that she knew to be crucial to the child's fate. Now he just had to give her the opportunity to rescue him.

And so without an explanation, he left her standing there with the baby in her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 6x09 section was fun to write on numerous levels. For starters, by the time I was updating MK&U with 6x09, I was already working hard at developing Rumple's story. Working on them both at the same time meant that I knew things you didn't and I'm excited to finally share Rumple's side of 6x09 with you. I wanted to make this episode very planned for Rumple. I always wanted him to have the intention of returning the child, because not having that intention and letting the Black Fairy take the child was always a little too evil in my opinion, even for the Dark One. In addition, I wanted him to have the intention of using Belle, I wanted it to be a plan that he had and developed, and went through with...just to see it all go to shit a little later.
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for your comments on the previous chapter. As always it's much appreciated. I remember telling you all when I first wrote this from Belle's POV that there was a reason I wanted the child to be named Gideon, I hope that's a little bit more clear now. This was pretty much the reason. I wanted him to have that name in his head during this, I wanted him to think that it meant he was supposed to do this. And of course, if he dismisses the name Gideon now, that means it'll come as quite the shock when he realizes exactly why he had that name in his head! Peace and Happy Reading.


	134. Fooling the Caretaker

He hated the way she'd looked at him. Not a single hint of a smile in her eyes or along her mouth...it gutted him.

He hated this. He hated all of this. He hated taking a child from his parents, so much so that he couldn't even bring himself to look through the cauldron to see if they'd tried to find help. He couldn't bear it. As a father he knew how painful it was to have a child taken away, that he had to do it for this nearly killed him.

He hated his mother. He hated what he'd discovered and that it had taken him so long to discover it. He hated that she'd abandoned him to be raised by a man that only longed to be a child and be rid of him. And the pain of it! The pain of confronting it after all these years and being faced with it all over again! He felt like these last few days had ripped a seam in him, one that he tried to keep tightly closed. It made him feel like he was five again, staring out the window, looking at the skies, wondering if he was an alien. He had only one image in his mind of his mother, and it was a poorly done charcoal drawing on a piece of cloth done by his father. Fiona. Her name was a Fiona. He could remember finding that cloth as a child and looking down at those symbols with confusion because he couldn't read. Now that he was older, he could read, he could read the symbols in his memory and knew her name was Fiona.

He wondered how Fiona had become a fairy. It wasn't possible for fairies to become parents, they weren't capable of producing children, that's why they adopted the children and called themselves fairy godmothers. All that meant was that at some point, Fiona was human, she'd met Malcolm, married, and had a child-him. From there…he was clueless as to what had happened. More than once in his life he'd wondered what happened. More than once he'd wished he'd known before remembering that he didn't care. It was the present that mattered, not the past. What a strange feeling now. Here he was years later, and it wasn't the present that he was concerned with, but rather the past, simply because it could protect his future.

He took a deep breath as he lounged in his tower for the appropriate amount of time, working himself up, preparing for the last thing he needed to ensure the plan went the way he wanted. He was going to give Belle her opportunity to play the hero, to translate the passage…to potentially discover what she would perceive as plans for the baby. It was a good thing they weren't "involved" as he fantasized about because she would kill him if they were. In a perfect world, he would have liked to keep her out of this plan, but with the baby, she was already a part of it. And anyway, Belle or her smile or what she thought of him or how they shared their time...it wasn't his concern.

Baelfire was his concern. His only concern.

Belle was just…collateral damage. Besides, she wasn't a child, she was a grown woman. Despite the kidnapping, he knew she could take care of herself, even if this forced her to hate him once more.

He just had to lay the trap.

"Belle!" he cried just before sunset.

The baby erupted into tears when he'd yelled. He overreacted and backed away at the noise before taking in the site before him. She'd been trying to feed the child it appeared and in order to do so she'd invented some kind of cup with a spout that would allow her to pour the milk into his mouth. It was odd, even for someone like Belle, but, he acknowledged, clever as well.

"Well, it's not like I'm a wet nurse!" she snapped at his expression. "He has to eat!"

"Of course he does, and I need to rest before tonight. See to it that he keeps quiet," he ordered, turning to leave the room.

"And I don't suppose you're going to tell me what you intend to do to him!" she shouted after him as he left. He was tempted, so tempted to do something to say something to her, but her curiosity was what he needed. She thought he was retiring, with any luck she would go to the tower and do what he needed her to do.

He went to his room, just in case she was listening for the door, but then he allowed his magic to take him back up to the tower where he cast a spell of invisibility over himself. He'd strategically placed the scroll in the little side room of his tower, the room that had a door he could lock. It wouldn't have been his first choice, but it wasn't as though he hadn't locked her in a room before. And it wasn't done just to be cruel this time, it was something he was doing for her, to keep her safe. He knew Belle. And he knew that just as she'd be unable to resist translating the summoning for him, she wouldn't be able to resist trying to stop him from giving the child to the Black Fairy. Accident-prone as she was, he just wanted to keep her safe. He'd lock her safely in the tower and after he had his information and had returned the child to his parents, then he'd release her. He'd promise her that the child was safely back with its parents, right where he belonged, whether or not she'd believe him…it didn't matter. He'd have his answers, he'd get back to Baelfire-no surprises.

She wasn't as quick as he would have guessed she'd be. He expected some delay in her arrival, but she'd cut it close, close enough that he wondered if he didn't know her as well as he thought he did. But then, just before sunset, just before the deadline, he'd finally heard steps on the stairs. His spell kept him invisible to the naked eye, but it couldn't take away sound. So he stilled himself, taking care to regulate his breathing, then watched as she came up into the tower with the baby basket slung over her shoulder. Watching her search the tower for the scroll was almost painful. He thought he'd placed it out rather obviously, but she was a thorough individual. She searched every table, the mantle, the couch, even the window before her gaze finally drifted to the inner chamber. After giving the room a last look, she went to the door and yanked it open.

There was the slightest squeak from the hinges that made her go still, at first he thought it was him she was afraid of, but when he saw her glance down at the baby, he realized she was afraid the noise would wake him.

"Our lucky day," she muttered before opening the door and stepping inside.

She was quick with her steps, a good thing because it allowed him to follow after her without his own footsteps being heard. Like a moth to the flame, she went right to the table where he'd laid the scroll. She set the basket on the table and quietly cooed the child when he moved at the motion, as if he could sense being away from her. But she kept her eyes on the table, firmly fixed on the scroll before her.

"This is fairy language!" she exclaimed. His heart raced as she reached for some paper and a quill. Perfect, better than ever! He'd, of course, hoped that she might write her findings down, that was why he'd left the ink and quill there. But he'd also been prepared for the fact that she might just speak the summoning out loud, and that was why he had come up here to watch to begin with. But her hand was nearly as quick as her mind. He watched as she worked, as she read a line and then began to scribble on the paper.

"It's an incantation," she muttered to the sleeping baby after a while. "For someone called…Black Fairy."

Someone called the Black Fairy. It almost made him feel better that she had no idea who it was. Lucky her.

"But what would Rumpelstiltskin want from her, and what does that have to do with why he took you?"

There was no more point in hiding. The sun was going to be down any second. Now he had the translation. And Belle was right where he wanted her to be, safely tucked away. There was no point in trying to be pretty about it all.

"That's for me to know…and you never to find out."

She jumped at the sound of his voice, but it was already too late. The scroll and the paper that she'd written her notes on were already in his hands. A quick glance down at the paper revealed a simple translation, just a couple of sentences below all the scratch work that revealed her final answer to him. That was all he needed.

"No!" she cried. "You knew I was going to do this!"

"Not only did I know, I was planning on it," he admitted. If she was going to hate him, then she may as well hate him. There was no relationship between them that required him to be delicate. In fact, if she came out of this never wanting to see him again, it would only serve to prove just how wrong the Seer's prophecies were. "You really think I left the tower door open by accident? I don't speak fairy, but why do I need to when I have you?"

"No!" she shouted. "I will not let you hurt this baby!"

She turned to collect him, but his magic was faster. In an instant, the basket and the boy were in his hands. She was stunned for a minute, much too stunned to move but then looked back so that he could present the child. He pointed the scroll at her and tried to ignore the hurt he saw in her eyes.

"This child is no longer your concern," he informed her, doubting seriously that it would relieve her of the emotions she was feeling. And his next words would especially not be any help for what he was about to do. "I think you should stay here for a while. Don't want you getting any ideas about trying to stop me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie, I'm not really a fan of how a lot of the 6x09 chapters divided out. There was a lot going on here but not a lot of conversation and action. There's a lot of internal conflict for Rumple, and for Belle, well...the writing for this episode tends to follow her, favor her, over Rumple. And the way it's been set up here he can feel some of what is about to happen with her, but not all of it. 
> 
> Big, big, huge thank you to RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I do hope you'll enjoy this one. In this chapter, I really wanted to emphasize the fact that he's losing a bit of his control on the situation. It started innocently enough, he wanted to talk to his mother about the Curse. But as we progress you should be able to see more issues coming up. He's getting angry with her. He's filling up with hatred. He continues to say he has questions to ask her, but more and more the idea of other questions are sneaking in on him. It's all building up to the moment he summons his mother. But first...some really poorly timed chapters!Peace and Happy Reading!


	135. A Poorly Timed Visit

It was easier to leave her than he would have thought it would have been. He thought he would have had to restrain her perhaps or, at the very least, endure lots of yelling and screaming and maybe even a bit of flailing. Instead, she remained relatively quiet and calm until he was out of the chamber. It was only after he shut the door and locked her in that he heard something big slam against the door and knew that she'd attempted to follow him.

"No!" he heard her shout from behind the door, but banging and wailing wasn't going to help. He doubted she'd ever know or understand, but this was for her, it was the best way to keep her safe. And as for Gideon…

He was going to do his best to keep him safe. He was bait, but he had no intention of actually letting his mother take the boy. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could get him back to his family. But he still had some time to wait. Night had to fall. That much was always clear. Before he left, he stashed the scroll somewhere safe, then turned back to the paper she'd written, made sure he could read it and understand it, then finally took the baby and went deep into the woods.

His destination was one that he'd picked out well ahead of time and was fairly surprising even for him. There was a clearing not far from the Apprentice's House and that was what he'd intended to use. He never thought for one second in his life that he would ever see that Apprentice as anything but a nuisance, but today he was betting on the Apprentice as back up. If he was really as impressive as Merlin had intended, then it was his hope he'd feel the Fairy's darkness when she entered this world. It was his hope that if something went terribly wrong and the child was at risk, then he might turn up and assist in a rescue and never be wiser to his plan to use him.

That was his hope, but there was no assurance it would work that way.

All he could really do was hold his breath, summon his mother, ask the questions he needed to ask, and then hope he could send the child away before she got her claws on him and was forced to retreat back to her realm. In his pocket he had a vial of something valuable that he was hoping would help with that.

Hope...he'd never used that word so much in his life. It was unnerving.

The sun was nearly down. He sat on a nearby log with the baby at his side, just waiting for darkness to come to the point where he could summon the Fairy. It would have to be dark enough that he could see the stars. As it was right now, he was only just beginning to see a wink of-

Suddenly something made him sick, a terrible feeling in the back of his head that he recognized right away. A summons to return home. The castle was calling out to him. There was an intruder on his property. Great magic. Familiar magic. Fairy magic. But not a fairy of darkness as he so desired now, but rather a fairy of light. Strong Light Magic.

The Blue Fairy was back...she'd come for the child!

And he was up and moving, just a step away from leaving his spot on the log when a cry from behind summoned his mind away from what he felt nearing his castle.

"Ah!" he cried, looking at it, then back at the sky, then back in the direction of his castle. His fingers twitched as he roared again. The Blue Fairy was in his territory. Now? Of all times! Oh, and he was already in a mood, he had been since her last visit. He'd been in a worse mood since he'd confronted her and he'd taken the child. It was brave of her to go back after that, but not completely unexpected. She always was a persistent little bitch, hellbent on bringing unhappiness everywhere she went. It figured that she'd arrive in some way right as his plan began to fall into place perfectly! If he saw her now, he'd squash her. He'd take a fireball and aim it at her with ease for what she'd done to him! If he had it his way, he'd go back right now and fix the problem! He'd destroy her once and for all!

But the baby cooed by the log an ever-present reminder. He was in the middle of something a great plan that he was orchestrating, and going back was certainly not on his list of things to do. What would the Blue Fairy do when she arrived at his tower and found not him but Belle? Would she free the girl? Would she leave? Would she seek him out here? And what could he do if he went back? Banish her again? Risk Belle taking the child or sneaking her translation away. He'd read it through so many times he had the thing nearly memorized, but that didn't mean he was willing to bet on that. And if she took it, he had very little doubt she'd ever give it back to him. If he went back there was no certainty he could return tonight, that meant another day of Belle looking after the child, trying to hide him, trying to save him. If she ran away, he'd be forced to spend his day hunting them down.

Not to mention, it was another day that his parents would go without him.

There were benefits to staying. But the problem of not going-

All at once, the feeling that there was an intruder left. It was difficult to believe, but unless the Fairy had somehow cloaked herself form his spells, that meant that she was gone. Gone? So quickly? Just like that? It should have brought him relief…but there was no relief at all. How could he feel relief when his greatest enemy had been in his home, in the place he worked, even if only for a few minutes? The things she'd have had access to…the things she could steal.

At the moment, there were only two things truly of value that the Fairy could steal: Belle and the Curse.

Silently he reached back through the connections and the ties he'd placed over the barriers to the Curse. They were undisturbed. That was a good thing. He never wanted to say anything with complete confidence, but his experience taught him that more than likely the Curse was safe.

As for Belle…if she was gone, he'd track her down, figure out what the Fairy had done to her. If she'd gone back home, he'd reassert his claim and take her away from her father. If she'd gone anywhere else…with the events of today, she might think she was better off. He might agree.

Across the clearing, the baby made more noise, and he finally made up his mind. He'd stay and wait a few more minutes. If the Blue Fairy went back to his castle, he'd go after her. If not, then he'd get this over with and then hurry home to see if Belle was where he'd left her. From there, he'd make a plan.

He leaned against a tree, placed his forehead there as he growled and finally screamed before hitting the thing. His mother was an awful being, potentially even worse than his father. If she'd cost him the Curse or Belle or anything else that was irreplaceable, then he'd kill her himself.

Finally, he took a deep breath and turned so he could rest his back against the tree. He stared up at the stars and focused on the cries of the infant. These next few minutes were about to be the longest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, this chapter is so short and stupid, but totally necessary. It's my own fault. I've had to add things to make the rest of the story work and that meant adding this little chapter so that I could keep continuity. Rumple's cast protective spells around his property. He knows when people come and go, including the Blue Fairy. That meant I couldn't just let him ignore the fact that the Blue Fairy visits Belle in this episode. In the end it worked, I suppose. I really did want to showcase the fact that time was passing and he was getting a little bit crazier over this whole thing. Make no mistake, if this were an ordinary deal, with a normal stranger, I haven't any doubt that he would have been back to his castle in a heartbeat to find out what she wants. But this isn't ordinary. To quote the great Dr. House, "All parents screw up all children." Rumple just doesn't seem to know that yet. But he will in the next chapter.
> 
> Big thank you to RolfB and Pi314159Geek for your comments. All problems aside, I did give you a nice little Easter Egg in this chapter. We do get to see just how much he cares for Belle. In these moments of inner turmoil and stress the walls come down, we can see how he feels when he's not so guarded. She's a priority. Really? Only two things in the castle of value? One gets you to your son and the other is your future wife. But yeah, no, I'm sure it's nothing. That's a totally normal reaction. Right. Peace and Happy Reading!


	136. No Answers to Wrong Questions

It was time to get on with it. He couldn't bear to wait anymore. He'd followed through with his plan, waited a good long time to see if the Blue Fairy went back to his tower, but he never received any warnings that someone was in his territory, and he never felt anything from the spells attached to the Dark Curse. The only thing he was questioning at the moment was the location of his caretaker. And, of course, the questions he had for his mother. He had them all lined out in his mind and he's spent the last few minutes going over them in his head, one after another. Why did she create the curse? What was her anticipated result? Did he have to worry about anything? Would his plan work? Was there anything he should know but didn't?

He was ready. The sooner this was done, the sooner he could return the baby and find Belle. With a deep breath, he moved the child to the middle of the clearing. He could have pulled the paper Belle had written the translation on out of his pocket, but it was only two lines, lines he'd read so many times since he'd take it that he'd memorized it. Dagger already in hand, he looked up at the sky he could see through the patch in the trees.

"Let the night sky tremble, as the Dark Star shall fall. Awake, Black Fairy, and heed my call!"

Now that was the reaction he'd sought out the night he'd attempted to summon the Red Fairy. A stir of the wind but a rush of magic. His voice had echoed from it. And as he saw a violet light appear in the sky and buzz about like a firefly growing above him, his heart started to hammer so that he felt it everywhere in his body. He felt it beat in his neck, slam against his ribs, jump into his throat, and pulse in his fingers. Suddenly a thought dawned on him that he hadn't ever considered until now. This was the first time that he was about to meet his mother. This was the first time he'd be able to talk to her, the first memory he'd ever have with her!

All at once, as the light drew closer and bigger and flashed before him, the entire clearing suddenly felt smaller than it had ever felt before.

She was sparkling, that was significant. So long as she was sparkling she could disappear, see him, spook and leave. That was why she'd brought little Gideon to begin with. She was used to collecting unwanted children, probably alone and in the middle of nowhere or from their scared mothers. He didn't want to be the first thing she saw, not until she stopped sparkling. He raced quickly off to the side of the clearing, leaving a clear view of the baby in the basket.

And then she was there. The sparkling stopped and crouched on the ground in a black uniform that was perhaps a bit too risqué for the Blue Fairy, but still fairy-like all the same, was the Black Fairy. Fiona. His mother. Attracted to the sounds of Gideon's squeals, she looked right at him, smiled, and took a step forward.

And suddenly, he felt an unexpected tug on his heart, a pain as he realized that it was that easy without any idea why or how, without any rhyme or reason she would pick this child up and take it away with her. But she couldn't have been bothered to do the same for him? All those years with his father, years of wishing for something more, yearning for a mother, wanting someone to take him away…she'd shown up for hundreds of children, but never once for her own?

When he stepped forward, he felt like he could hardly breathe. "I'm afraid I can't let you get ahold of that baby!" he growled. "Not yet, anyway."

"Who dares summon me?" she demanded, but he was the one in control, he was the one who had questions, he was the one who deserved answers! He'd deserved them since his birth! For heaven's sake, he'd always been told that his father had named him…did she even know her son's name? Did she know anything about him?!

In a second, he withdrew from his pocket a small vial of something rare that would keep her here in this world, at least for a time, at least so he could finally get his questions answered. Immediately the magic within the vial moved over her in a cloud of black and purple. A small but visible shimmer around her made it obvious that it was working.

"Squid ink!" he announced, letting the vial drop to the ground. "Nasty stuff."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them as his mind struggled to grasp at the questions about the Curse he'd come armed with. But then she smiled at him, a sickening nasty smile that made him want to sneer until he realized…

He'd seen her face before! Not just in the drawing his father had done, he'd seen this face before! Pale skin, high cheekbones, black eyes, and that smile, that exact sneer! He'd seen it in the first vision he'd ever gotten from the Seer! This wasn't the exact moment he'd seen though. That smile had been in the day time, this was night time. He was going to meet her again. One day, beyond now, he was going to see her again. How? Why? And what was it the Seer had told him when he'd seen her face? Something about a final battle?

"Rumpelstiltskin…"

Her voice snapped him out of his memory. She knew his name. His father named him, but his mother knew his name.

"So, you know who I am."

"Oh, who hasn't heard of the Dark One?"

He felt his eyes swell, felt them water like they hadn't for decades. Was he truly tearful? Over her? Because she knew him by reputation but had no idea that at the moment she was staring into the eyes of her son? She didn't deserve tears. So why was he so willing to give them.

"And if you've heard of me, you know that squid ink won't hold me long."

No, not long at all. He had to ask his questions. What were his questions? What had he wanted to talk to her about?!

"Oh, I know," he muttered. He was stalling, searching his brain, circling her and finally walking away all in an attempt to clear his brain of that face. "That's why…I have this," he stated, flourishing his dagger.

"And how exactly do you plan on using that?" she questioned with interest. Interest...she'd never shown any interest in him.

"Well, that all depends on how you answer one simple question. You steal babies, steal them from their mothers' arms, so why, of all the babies, in all of the realms, why did you abandon the one child who was actually yours?"

That wasn't the right question. It wasn't anything like he'd come here to ask! Why had he asked it? Why didn't he correct it? And why did the sudden look of fear in Fiona's eyes make him feel like his heart was going to stop?

"No. No, it can't be."

"Oh, I'm afraid it can be…Mother."

Her facial expression hardly changed, but in her eyes, he could see shock and horror. Truly, she hadn't known? Hadn't even stayed around for long enough to learn her child's name? Instead, she'd rushed off, become a fairy, created a curse, and left him to become…this!

She should be ashamed. She should be horrified! He hoped her heart was splitting in two.

"That's right. Rumpelstiltskin is your son. Of course, you would know that…had you bothered to even give me a name. And now you are gonna answer my question," he growled, wondering how his legs had somehow dragged him right back to where she was so that she was looking deep into the bottomless pit of her eyes. "Why did you abandon me?"

He could feel everything. His heart beating. His lungs holding the air in his chest. The crawl on his skin, the dagger in his hand, the wetness moving into his eyes.

And then she laughed. High and breathy, it reminded him of his father when he'd been playing mind games with him. And that smile...he wanted to take his dagger and cut it right out of her face!

"Funny that the Dark One should ask such a thing. Sometimes you have to choose power over love."

He could feel everything, and he could hear everything too. Behind him, now there was another heartbeat, one that he hadn't accounted for. The baby cried, and when he looked over his shoulder, he half hoped to see the Apprentice come to help as he'd planned. But the person holding the baby wasn't a man in a red cloak, it was a woman in a cloak that he'd made for her.

Belle.

The sight of her was sobering.

She was in danger. She had no power to protect her against the Black Fairy.

The Curse, he'd meant to ask her about the Curse!

But Belle couldn't stay! And soon enough the ink would-

"Time's up!"

When he turned back to his mother, he was struck by a hand around his neck. Magic pulsed into him through that hand, Dark Magic, magic that made him feel like his own magic was on overload. Normally that kind of power made him stronger. Now, he just felt entirely overwhelmed. It was enough to keep him still, but as long as her focus was on him and not Belle…he prayed she'd take the baby and run.

"No more answers for you today," his mother taunted. "Guess you'll just have to keep on wondering…son!"

With a vile laugh, she tossed him across the clearing with so much force he landed back several feet. The pulse of magic gone, he was quick to try and get to his feet and chase after her. But she was gone. He managed to run a few steps, but stopped as the violet light he'd seen upon her arrival grew smaller and then disappeared altogether. Through a portal back to another land.

She was gone.

Gone…

And he was here, left alone in this world just like he had been since he was a baby. One parent had gone before he'd had a name, the other before he could begin school and read her name off a single drawing of her, and all of the sudden he had an urge to break into tears in a way he hadn't since he was a child! To sit by a window and stare at the sky and beg her to come back, apologize for anything he'd done, for whatever way he'd hurt her, if she'd just come back and take him away. How was it possible to love and hate someone all at once?

"I understand now."

Belle's voice across the clearing was crisp. It was clear and close. But it wasn't right. He didn't know what she thought she understood, but he knew she didn't. When he thought of all the times he'd observed her over the years and her father had been at her side, he knew that she couldn't possibly understand at all. Not a single bit.

"I mean…you didn't deserve what she did, but sacrificing the life of an innocent child is not the answer. No matter how much pain you're in."

He would have laughed if it didn't remind him so much of his parents. Foolish woman…he agreed with her, and that was why he'd never intended to give the child to her. He'd intended to get his answers and whisk the child away before anything bad could happen.

His answers…he'd never get his answers. He should never have brought up that he was her son, she might have actually given him answers to the things he needed to know if he hadn't let his emotions, his weakness get the better of him. Belle may have been foolish, but what did that make him?

"No one knows anything about my pain," he hissed over his shoulder at her. And then he left her there in the clearing as he went back to the castle. If she'd managed to get there and find him all on her own, then she could bring the baby back on her own as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode always seemed to me to be one giant contradiction. In general, when looking at this episode by itself, it was actually a really good episode! Really. It had mystery and intrigue, it had that last little twist to it and introduced the villain perfectly. It was a really good episode all by itself. The problem I always had with it was that when it was incorporated into the rest of the story it didn't make sense. Like I said before, it was like Rumple just woke up one morning and said "I think I'll try to meet my mommy today." My hope is that what this episode really needed to finally bring it all together is a chapter like this, a chapter that allows us to actually look at Rumple's internal thoughts, that allows us to see what was intended and then what happened. I wish we had some sort of scene in the show that could have done this so that it brought it all together beautifully, but alas, you are stuck with my writing.
> 
> Thank you to RolfB for leaving such kind comments on the previous chapter. I'm curious about what you'll have to say about this one. Did it translate well, does it answer some questions, do the additions make this episode fit a little bit better? No matter what I hope you'll like it. We've got two more chapters before we're out of this episode so let's get to it, shall we? Peace and Happy Reading!


	137. Pretty Words From A Pretty Face

He wanted to hunt. He wanted to kill and destroy. He wanted to feel bones break in his hands, watch blood gush, see life leave the eyes so nothing was left but a pitiful empty body. He wanted to watch someone else feel pain. If he did, it might just distract him from his own. To watch someone else's hopes and dreams fade from existence might make him forget what it felt like when all of his own vanished without a trace.

But he knew, truly and deeply, that wasn't going to make his hurt or his rage go away. It was like an open wound. Or at least it was now. Until this moment he hadn't even really known it had never been healed, not until his mother came along and tore it open again, revealing the infection festering just beneath his skin.

He wanted to be anywhere else in the world right now rather than where he was. He wanted to be in another realm. He wanted to hold his son tight in his arms, he wanted to kiss his face and tell him that he was precious and loved and important. In that moment, he would have given anything for that fantasy to be true. He would have given anything for any of his fantasies to be true! A dream of a mother and father who loved him, who thought his spinning was a miracle, who worked hard so he could go to school to make something of himself. Two parents who praised the home he'd built for himself, who helped him start his business, and visited every other night for dinner. Two parents who cheered for him when he took a wife at the well, who held their grandchildren with smiling faces, who helped him raise his children. In this fantasy, there was no war that ever separated them, no family friend who lusted after his wife, and his wife loved him so much she'd never be tempted any way. There was no magic in that fantasy, and that was what reminded him that it wasn't real, that it never would be real, that the people he came from were rotten and evil and cunning enough to make him sick.

He wanted to rage. He wanted to tear his castle apart brick by brick and forget tonight had ever happened. He wanted to pretend as though his emotions hadn't gotten the best of him, that his mother had not once again utterly destroyed his life. But he already had enough of a mess to clean up.

It took everything he had in him to sit down at his spinning wheel and pour everything into his thread. Never once had he used magic to spin, to enhance his own abilities, but he did now. He worked the machine so hard it would have broken if he'd not pushed magic into it so that it could handle the load. His hands moved unnaturally fast, he felt heat coming off his own fingers, from between his joints. His eyes darted back and forth from hand to wheel to mother-of-all to spindle so quickly it would have given any human a headache. There was a warm fuzzy feeling just behind his eyes, one that made his brain feel like mush when he realized he was going through the actions but wasn't really seeing.

The wheel always calmed him. It always helped him to forget. Spinning wheels didn't lie, they couldn't cheat, they couldn't deal, or make promises. They didn't disappear, they wanted more than they should, they always worked reliably, the same way, every time. Every time. Every damn time! When his parents were gone, the wheel had always been there for him. He could trust spinning wheels, more than he could trust his magic, more than he could trust himself, more than he could trust his parents, more than he could trust-

Belle.

The world came back into focus and the motion of the wheel stopped when he felt someone come into his territory. His magic flared, but it was nothing like what it was when the Blue Fairy entered. Two people, two very weak signatures. Belle carrying the baby. She'd found her way home just as he'd assumed she would in the woods, though sitting here now, head feeling a little bit clearer than it had then, he wouldn't have blamed her or pursued her if she hadn't returned. He was fooling himself, thinking that she might actually enjoy being here; there was not a person in the world who had enjoyed his company since he was born. Perhaps some people were just meant to be alone all their lives, to always lose and never win. Maybe he was one of them. Afterall, wasn't that what this Curse he was working on going to lead to? A boy would lead him to his son, and then that boy would be his undoing. There was no such thing as a happy ending for a creature like him.

"Leave," he commanded the moment Belle stepped into the room. He didn't look at her, but he could feel the anger pulsing off of her. She was still carrying the baby. The baby was still crying it was as if nothing had changed from the clearing except for where the sun was in the sky. It had taken her a while to get home, the sun would be up soon enough. And he wanted to be by himself. But when had the help ever listened to what he wanted, especially this help.

"You have to take him back!" she ordered, striding over to his wheel and staring him dead in the eye. Ah, yes...very angry. Her tone was so forceful and her stance so set he wondered for a moment if he had done her a disservice in removing her from her father's court. She certainly had the attitude wives needed when dealing with their husbands, not to mention Queens needed in dealing with their Kings and courts. She might have changed the world if it wasn't for him.

"Now!" she demanded when he didn't do anything but stare back at her.

"I don't have to do anything!" he argued, throwing his voice for her own sake. If he let himself argue with her tonight, truly argue with his true self, then someone might get hurt. The persona of the Dark One wasn't just an assistance to him, it was the only thing standing between the pain he felt and Belle. So, with his mask firmly in place, he grit his teeth and tried to pretend he was fine as he'd claimed he was with her. "And you've caused enough damage tonight. Leave!"

He sidestepped her. There was a wheel in his tower and one in his room. He'd work elsewhere until dawn.

"Well, you can't just leave him here!" she called after him. "Are you going to raise him?! Am I?!"

"Let him be."

"I will not let him be!" she screamed with such force his boots finally stuck to the floor. She was getting dangerously close to seeing what he was protecting her from.

"And it's because of that remarkable inability you possess, you foolish, selfish girl, that the entire plan failed!" hollered back, striding across the room. This was usually were his victims backed down. They cowered, dropped their gaze, took a step away. But the way she stood her ground and held her head up high, meeting his eyes the entire way egged him on. "I'd have never sent that child or any child to live with her. She's a demon and nothing, and he was the bait. If it weren't for you, he'd be at home with his parents right now, and I'd have my answers. But now, since I can't get what I want, it seems fitting you should get what you want either, even if it means that he doesn't get what he wants. Misery for everyone!"

He wanted to see tears, he wanted to watch her give up, to accept the guilt that he knew, deep down, wasn't really hers. If anything, she'd helped to keep the child safe, acting bravely in the manner than he'd expected the Apprentice to act. But if he didn't place the blame on her shoulders, then that meant the fault was his own, that his seven-year-old self had taken over a Dark One that was over a hundred years old and he wasn't prepared to face that. Nor was he prepared to face the determination on her face. In spite of his accusations, she held strong. She didn't waver in her resolution, just examined his face as though she was searching for something.

It was something she wouldn't find. He turned on his heel to go again, hoping she would do the same and-

"Is that what you think?" she called out before he could leave. "That you'll never get your answers?" Before he could leave…he was the bloody Dark One, she didn't control him, if he wanted to go, he only had to think the thought and he'd be gone! Why was he letting her draw this out? "I don't believe that. I know that things we long for most often reveal themselves in the least likely of ways when we least expect it, and you…you will get your answers. I believe that. You can do anything when you set your mind to it; I've seen it, Rumpelstiltskin."

"Well then, you have seen too much and not enough at the same time," he spat over his shoulder. Pretty words from a pretty face. She didn't mean it. She was just telling him what he wanted to hear all so that he'd do what she wanted him to. Not tonight. "Leave! Return to the dungeon, and leave me in peace before I have you flogged for your actions."

Before he could wince at the very idea he'd created in his own head, he allowed himself to disappear from her sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter (and the next) highlights how sometimes Belle's moments don't necessarily match up with Rumple's. In Moments this chapter and the next are one chapter. I had initially wanted that for Rumple's version, but when I wrote this from Rumple's POV I realized that it had to become two chapters. It worked better for his story to show how he punishes himself for his failings by isolating himself and running away. It is certainly not a coincidence that he calls Belle "girl" again for the first time since Robin Hood here. He's trying to separate himself from her. When he thinks of her as a woman he allows himself to be close, when he thinks of her as a girl it makes him back off a little, but in a time like this that just means that he retreats into himself and that's not good either.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Up next we have the conclusion of this conversation before moving on to a different episode. Peace and Happy Reading!


	138. His Remarkably Persistent Caretaker

His tower was quieter than the Great Hall anyway. It was more familiar, more peaceful. And he liked its darkness. It wouldn't be long until the sun began to creep up over the horizon and flood it with light, but for now he found the darkness comforting. There was something to the gray that accompanied the sunset, something clammy and perfect about the color it cast about his tower that seemed to fit his mood. He wanted to sit at his wheel and spin, and he would. Straw into gold, wool into thread, he hadn't made up his mind which just yet. But that was okay, he didn't need too.

His first stop was by the mantle, the place that he'd hidden his Curse and protected it against the Blue Fairy. He'd already made one tragic mistake tonight, he couldn't afford to make two. And so he numbly remembered the signal he'd received from the castle and the panic he'd felt that she might have taken Belle or the Curse. The door to the inner chamber, the place that he'd left Belle was wide open, and obviously, he'd already seen her more than he cared to in the last few hours, so there was no need to worry about that. But as for the Curse…

In the clearing his magic had told him it was safe. It took him only a moment to confirm his defenses and discover that they were all intact; not a single one was tampered with or disturbed. And breathing just behind the stone, with a heartbeat all its own and a blackness he'd recognize in an instant now was his Curse…a product of his mother's magic.

Why had she created the Curse? What was her anticipated result? Did he have to worry about anything? Would his plan work? Was there anything he should know but didn't?

Those were the questions he should have asked her. Those were the questions he'd needed to be answered and now he would never know, he'd never have those answers. The Blue Fairy surely wouldn't tell him, the Red Fairy wasn't answering his summons, and now the Black Fairy…she wouldn't be taken by surprise ever again, not now that she knew who he was. She might not ever answer a summons by him again. The doors were all closed. The windows locked. There were no other hallways to venture down to give him the answers he needed, at least none that he knew of because he didn't have clues and he certainly didn't fucking have answers!

Trust was not really something he did well, but in this particular case he found no choice but to have trust. The Seer had yet to lie to him. If she said the Dark Curse was the way back to Baelfire then he'd have to trust her. At the moment, she seemed to be the only female in his life that he could trust…

He sighed in anguish and rolled his eyes the moment he heard the door to his tower open then close. A baby's squeal echoed up through the tunnel to his ears.

Belle.

He should have known that she was not one to give up.

Her footsteps were quick, and he just barely had time enough to push himself away from his mantle and begin spinning at his wheel before he saw a glow and then the top of her head appeared at the stairs. She carried a candelabra in one hand and little Gideon in the other pressed tight against her side. She still looked determined, but her face had softened, cooled. Fortunately for her, so had he.

"You are on very thin ice!" he hissed.

She only swallowed and set the candelabra down on a table. To his horror, he watched as she removed one of the candles and used it to begin lighting other candles he had around so that it's light invaded his depressing gray tower. Stubborn woman.

"Look, I can't imagine what you went through-"

"It's none of your concern-"

"But the child is!" she stressed, keeping her tone forceful but just below what would be considered yelling. "You grew up without a mother, and I am so sorry about that, but this child…he's loved by his parents."

"And how would you know that?" he questioned. He was almost dying for her to say something childish like "I can feel it", but he knew she was beyond that. And he knew the moment he said the words he wanted to take them back. It was just like the gauntlet all over again. She'd taken his words as a challenge; an opportunity to prove something to him. She was worse than stubborn.

"They care for him," she explained, coming closer. "They made him decent clothes and kept him healthy and clean. Parents that do that will be missing him. And listen to him cry! He's been changed and well-fed and slept since he got here. Now, he's heartbroken!" she claimed. "He misses his mother and father too! Please…please don't sentence him to the same fate as you by making him grow up without a mother!"

"Why not?" he demanded, finally turning himself so that he could truly look at her. "I turned out perfectly fine!"

But he hadn't. And they both knew it. The silence that she allowed to stretch between them as his false observation went unanswered denied it.

"If that were true, then you wouldn't be stealing children and demanding answers that make you miserable," she finally pointed out gently.

Miserable. He wasn't always…

Suddenly he felt guilt creep up on him as he remembered...he hasn't always been miserable. His aunts, Mr. Oak, Margery, Baelfire…he hadn't been alone, not always. They had taken care of him before he'd become this. His life may have been sad, but it wasn't bad. In fact, it might be because of them that he had the amount of humanity he did as a Dark One, that when he returned from stressful nights he was able to sit down at his wheel to spin and deny the instinct to kill like he'd had earlier. Other Dark Ones hadn't always managed that instinct well. He had.

And Belle…what he wouldn't give to count her as one of those people who saved him, to have arms to fall into again, to give comfort like his blood family never had.

That was a stupid thought. It was thoughts like those that fueled his fantasies. Fantasies...not visions!

"Look…" she finally swallowed, jumping up and down a bit to settle the screaming child in her arms. "I know that despite what you say and how you act, there is more to you than just this thing that you have become, what she helped turn you into. And I know that you don't want this child to suffer the same way that you did just like I know you don't want him to be here forever." She knew? How was it possible for her to be so certain? "Tell me who his parents are. Let me take him home so that we can get back to our peace and quiet, so that we can talk about what happened."

Talk about what happened…didn't she understand that was the last thing he wanted?!

"There will be no talking regardless!" he roared, pushing back from the wheel and moving to escape her again. He didn't want to talk to her or to anyone, not to her about his mother or with Bae about his father! He just wanted to forget it all! If he could take a memory potion and afford to lose the knowledge, he would.

"Fine…" he heard her sigh behind him. "Make me a deal."

The monster inside of him, a moment ago tired and exhausted from the night's events, rolled over with inescapable interest.

"Deal?"

"Well, the other one worked out so well, why not?"

If he wasn't trying so hard to be upset with her, he might have laughed at her sarcastic joke.

"Let me take the child back to his family and in return…in return I'll forget everything I saw and heard today. I'll never mention the Black Fairy, or your mother, or even this child again!"

He winced even as she said the words and reminded him just how great her own knowledge was.

"I could just as easily take away your voice or erase your memory," he suggested.

"Take away my voice, and you'll soon learn that there is more than a voice to complaint and protest. You won't be able to silence me forever. And if you take away my memory, then you'll hand me a baby and I'll spend the rest of my days asking questions about him. Those questions will be a constant reminder of tonight! Every time we speak, every time you see him, he will be a constant reminder of this conversation, tonight, and your stubbornness.

"Please," she begged. "I know you didn't want to hurt him or me, you just wanted your answers, but…she won't come back to you now, not now that she knows who you are. He's of no more use to you. Let me take him home."

She had the upper hand. Damn it all. He looked down on her, and yet she was the one in control. An answer to every question, a counter argument for every point he made. She was right in every conceivable way, and he hated that almost as much as he hated what had happened tonight. This was not a night he wanted to look back on. Ever. And that was exactly her point.

"His parents live a fair distance from here, in the middle of a distant wood. Jack and Jill, royals cast out of their home they are farmers now, working the land. Even if they told someone the child was gone, there is little chance anyone would help them," he finally admitted with a sigh.

"Okay…" she sighed with something like relief as she heaved the child into her arms one more time. "I have to find them."

"Stop!" he yelled before she could start toward the steps. Foolishness. How was it possible for someone to be so foolish and so incredibly intelligent all at the same time?! Did she really think it would be that simple, that she'd just walk down off the mountain and find Jack and Jill in the forest, dressed as he was, with a baby in her arms and without a map? She'd be gone for weeks. And after what happened with his enemies…

"I can't have you roaming about the countryside!" he concluded as she looked at him with confusion. He waved his hand and let magic take them.

And that was how, as the sun rose, he found himself hidden in some distant shrubbery, watching as his caretaker walked the baby in her arms over to the couple that came running out of the house to greet him.

His mother took him, held him in her arms, and hardly seemed to notice Belle as his father joined them. They exchanged a few words, but he watched the look on Jill's face as she held her child close. His aunts had held him like that when he was little, and he appreciated everything they'd ever done for him, every sacrifice they'd ever made, every comfort they'd given him in troubling times. But he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched Gideon's mother hold him. It was an embrace he would never recognize, no matter how much he longed for it.

The moment Belle walked back into the tree line, he was quick to use his magic to get them away and back to the castle. He was eager to let this experience fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Belle this was all one chapter, for Rumple it became two very distinct chapters. The first was conflict. The second, this one, was the resolution. Or...well...at least as much of a resolution as Rumple will get for six seasons. He recognizes he's got good people in his life, he realizes that he's going to have to trust the Seer. I meant there to be an irony to that. He realizes he has to trust the Seer, but at the same time doesn't believe what she's given him in regards to Belle. And yet, he's got hints, in this very chapter, that it's all true. I enjoyed writing this one, in case that's not abundantly clear.
> 
> Big thank yous going out to RolfB and TeacupsRoses for your wonderful comments. I hope you like the conclusion to 6x09, up next we're going back to a 1x12 episode for one chapter. Immediately following that we'll be getting into a different episode that doesn't really feature Belle, but flows into a couple of episodes that certainly feature Belle in one of my favorite ways. So wait for it, we're going somewhere fun, just trust me. Peace and Happy Reading!


	139. Another Short-Term Obsession

Obsession was a strange thing. He would have always thought that obsession was persistent enough to drive a person forward no matter the risks or rewards no matter the circumstances. Experience told him this. For over a hundred years, Baelfire had been his obsession. His son was the obsession that fueled him. It wasn't easy to spend over a hundred years on the same project, not easy at all, but that was exactly what he had done, was doing, and would continue to do until he saw his son standing in front of him again. That was how obsession worked.

Or at least that was what he thought until the Blue Fairy had told him that his mother was the creator of the Curse he intended to use to get to Baelfire. Now he knew that obsession took on multiple forms. There was the form that he had where Baelfire was concerned, the one that allowed him to look for his son and never grow tired or weary or even consider giving up. And then there was a temporary form. Ironically, the temporary form was more powerful than the long-term obsession, at least on a surface level. The temporary form was all-consuming. For a short amount of time, it occupied every thought, every breath, every heartbeat. A temporary obsession might threaten a long-term obsession, but it would never kill it. For what drove the obsessions that could last dozens of lifetimes was hope and love; the strongest magic there was. All that drove temporary obsessions was greed, hunger, lust, and half a dozen other emotions that could never survive next to hope and love.

His mother was a short-term obsession. For weeks after the Blue Fairy told him about her relationship to the Dark Curse, she'd occupied his thoughts and plans. For weeks after the plan had failed, she'd taken up space in his mind, had him peering around corners looking for her ghost seeking a sign that she regretted what had happened. It turned out, all he needed to do get rid of her was wait it out. She was like some kind of drug introduced to his system or like alcohol in a drunk. It took time, and the burning of nearly every book he could find of the devil woman in the realm, but eventually, he cleared her from his mind. He accepted what happened even if he didn't like what happened. He was content to think that in destroying records of her, he had destroyed the hold she had on this world. He remembered Baelfire, and the hope born of his obsession to see him again shook the last dregs of the Black Fairy free from him. No one stood a chance next to his son. No one.

Cora had once upon a time been another short-term obsession of his. And now there were days when he wondered if Belle wasn't becoming the same thing. That woman…she was impressive. If pressed to admit it, he might even say she was stunning but it wasn't just her looks that inspired thoughts like that; it was her attitude, her actions. She'd promised to put the incident with his mother behind them, and though he had his doubts despite the deal they'd made, she seemed to be following through with it. It was her ridged schedule, her own hard work that had helped him purge the Black Fairy from his mind. Her stability helped him back to normalcy though that was not a secret he was keen to tell her. Breakfast in the morning, tea in the afternoon, dinner and spinning in the evening. The castle was cleaned. The grounds were beginning to sprout flowers she planted. His clothes were laundered. The sense of predictability she brought was a comfort.

But as for her…he couldn't tell if she forgave him for locking her in the tower or making her walk home that night with the baby by herself. He couldn't tell with the quiet there was between them. Most of their conversations had ceased after that night. He told himself it didn't matter, it was probably even better not to know, but the truth was that he longed to know if she had forgiven him. He wanted to know if she still thought about it and carried a grudge, if that was what kept their conversations at bay. In fact, for a time she'd gone so quiet he wondered if there was some kind of magic he was unaware of at work from their deal; if he had inadvertently taken her memories or her voice. Once, he'd asked her a question, what she was reading, just so he could hear her answer. But the smile she cast as she gave it with the look in her eyes of sadness and happiness mixed together told him all he needed to know. Yes, she remembered that night. No, she wasn't carrying a grudge. Yes, she could still carry on with conversations, she was just waiting for him to tell her it was alright to do so.

Her look helped him, but what came next did not.

He was prepared for his fantasies, most nights at least; what he wasn't prepared for was how they began to invade his daily life. In his bedroom alone at night, when he closed his eyes, he imagined all manner of interactions with her. They carried on conversations, talking about his mother and her father, about Baelfire and how she wanted him to complete his Curse. And he wasn't proud of it, but sometimes he let his mind wander to other things beside her voice. In his imagination, he touched her shoulder, and she didn't flinch. She willingly placed her hand on his chest, and he didn't back away. Touches escalated and he found himself wondering what it might be like to pick her up off her feet, lay her in his bed, and remember what it meant to be a man with a woman beneath him. He wasn't proud of those dreams, but at least he'd managed to keep them well checked for long enough.

Nighttime fantasies were one thing, but the moment they started to invade the waking hours, when he began to watch her turn and walk away, wonder what her reaction would be if he actually touched her shoulder, or even what her hair smelled like, that was the minute he began to wonder if she was to become his new obsession. Short-term, of course. He wasn't so stupid as to let a woman take Baelfire's place. But it was enough of a concern that he often found himself thinking about how he was going to take care of the situation.

 _"Send her away!"_ the voices shouted at him until they were hoarse.

But the thing was, it was difficult to imagine his life without her around, especially when memories of that terrible night threatened to invade, and her presence was the only thing he felt keeping him tied to sanity and determination. It was a conundrum. Short-term obsessions threatened the lasting ones, but he never felt that she was a threat to Baelfire, if anything, she encouraged him, in some way.

Besides, it was difficult to convince himself to send her away when she had a tendency to strike him to the point he felt breathless.

He'd just tended to a deal. This one no different than any other only this one had interrupted the pair of them. Well, not interrupted them exactly…someone had merely knocked on the door after dinner, a time when they both sat in the Great Room and made themselves busy. He would cast glances at her when she wasn't looking, and every now and then, when he was focused on the wheel, he felt an itch at the back of his neck that made him feel like someone was looking at him. But every time he looked up at her, she was always looking at her book.

On this particular night, he'd seen to the business at the door quickly enough, it was an easy case of giving a man a spell to grow wings. When he returned to the Great Room he'd expected to find her still sitting in her chair but was caught off guard to see that she wasn't.

He should have been furious. She'd uncovered the mirror that he was currently keeping in the Great Room, the one that could connect him with Regina if he so desired. He could smell soap in the air and knew that she'd taken the opportunity to clean it, the bucket and rag resting nearby told him that much. But as he found her now, she was just staring into it, unaware of the danger that lurked on the other side. She didn't even take notice that he'd reentered the room. Something held her attention, but he could tell that she wasn't admiring herself in the mirror as Cora used to. This was different. She was examining herself. For what, he wondered. What did she see? The sunlight in her hair? The seriousness of her features? The comfort in her back that made his own fingers itch to-

Behind him, the door slammed shut, and they both jumped.

"Careful now, dearie!" he squealed unintentionally, trying to hide the fact that his mouth had suddenly gone dry as he'd stared at her.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked suspiciously. Her cheeks had gone red with embarrassment, and he suspected that her chest had too, but it was difficult to tell with her hand resting over it.

"Long enough," he answered, amused. She was a beautiful woman, but she wasn't a vane one. It was obvious the idea that she'd been caught staring at herself was atrocious to her. If he'd allowed it and been quiet, she'd have picked up her bucket and rag and marched away to hide much the way he did. But that was becoming of him, the Dark One. She, on the other hand, wasn't one to brood. She didn't have the darkness to pull it off. "Mirrors can be dangerous objects," he explained, nearing her. He'd been groping for some way to talk to her, to take her mind off her embarrassment. An explanation was the first thought he'd grabbed. "If you must possess one, it's best to keep it covered."

She shook her head in confusion before she looked back into the mirror. "But why? It's just a simple looking-glass."

"That may be true," he conceded, coming to stand behind her. "But when you look into a mirror, you should always keep in mind that you never know what might be looking back…"

Looking back…

She was looking back. It was the first time he'd allowed himself to look in a mirror for a good long time, and what he saw wasn't himself but rather her. Her eyes were still, and yet he could feel them everywhere at once, taking in not just herself, but him as well. She saw them both. The big picture. And he…

His heart was racing so fast he wondered if she could feel it. She was right there, practically leaning against his chest. It was the closest he'd been to her in a long time, the closest he'd certainly allowed himself to ever be while he was alone with her. He'd envisioned something like this once before, alone at night in his room. They hadn't been looking into a mirror in that fantasy, they'd been standing by the fireplace in his bedroom when he'd snuck up behind her. In his mind's eye, she'd smiled when he put his arms around her waist and lowered his head to nuzzle her neck and then kiss her there. She'd even laughed.

Thinking of that as he stood behind her now was enough to make his ears feel hot while he listened to his own pulse race. He should step away. She was a drug, intoxicating, overpowering…but he couldn't stop wondering if she would smile if he touched her like he did in his dreams.

He held his breath and his hands trembled as he reached out and placed them over her hips. A gentle gesture, he didn't want to scare her. The touch was hardly wrapping his arms around her as he had in his fantasies. And it was certainly less invasive than it had been when he'd caught her by the window. And yet he could tell that she was aware of it.

Not right away. She was too caught up in whatever her mind was thinking about, but it wasn't long after that he noticed the slightest hitch in her breathing and her eyes wandered down herself to stop at her waist where his fingers were clearly visible.

 _Back away!_ The voices urged. _Back away before she steps away._

Before she stepped away...surely it was only a matter of time before she stepped away from him.

But the next second, she did the unthinkable and leaned back into him.

She leaned back! She was the one to get closer! Her heart was racing just as much as his own was, and for once he didn't need magic to know that! He could feel her heartbeat in her back, against his chest. She didn't pull herself free, and suddenly he couldn't bear to do it himself. Whatever spell the mirror had cast over them seemed to hold them in this limbo state, unwilling to go backward, unwilling to go forward…

And he wished he hadn't thought of that damn mirror! For every second they stood there together, frozen like this, it was a potential window for Regina into his world, a glimpse at Belle he wasn't willing to share with any other villains, not after what happened last time.

"Best to keep this old thing covered," he whispered into her ear. It took everything he had to pry his hand off her and use his magic to cover it once more, especially knowing that in doing it, he might break the spell it had on her, and she might come to her senses and step away. But once again, at the flash of magic, she gave a small start and leaned back further against him so that her back was nearly flat against his chest and oh he was suddenly grateful the mirror was covered, that she couldn't see his hand return or how he was enjoying this. He could smile now without risk of her seeing. Her arms stayed still but he wished, he longed for her to cover his hands with her own. They'd fit perfectly, he knew they would. How could they not when she fit so perfectly right where she was? When her hair smelled like his childhood home and her heartbeat reminded him of the small pulses a wheel could give as it worked? He had the sense that if he dared to lean down, to place his nose along her neck, or even his mouth to her shoulder, she wouldn't mind. Maybe that was why she was still here. Maybe she wanted him to do it. Maybe he should just-

Suddenly her head twisted on her delicate neck, just enough that he could see the corner of her eye. "What happened?" she asked quietly, breaking the silence between them. "To your family?"

Her heart began to pound faster, it matched his own, and he didn't have a thought as to how she knew he'd had a family, only that she did and he didn't mind. And that was very dangerous thinking. It was dangerous information. Not only for her, but also for him. This obsession, this passing urge of lust was nothing. It would get him nowhere, no closer to Baelfire, no closer to home, no matter how much she made him feel like he was finally home. They both needed to know that.

"What happened…" he whispered into her ear, trying to ignore the smell of lemons in her hair, "is I'm a difficult man to love."

She opened her mouth again to speak, and the warmth he felt from inside at the desperation for whatever words were going to come out were doused by sobering reality. He was a difficult man to love...even for her. He let go of her so fast that she staggered, and he had to turn around to fight the urge to help her keep her balance. She didn't call out to him as he strode over to his wheel, she didn't follow him either. The room suddenly felt hot and cold as he sat down and tried to ignore yet another instance of swelling in his groin.

He knew what images would haunt him tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a lot of fun to write. For anyone who is a bit clueless, this is a partially deleted scene. We didn't get to see the full thing in the extras, it was instead just a small snippet we got to see in a BTS extra. But, when I was writing Moments, I loved that snippet so much that I expanded it and built upon it. 
> 
> Thank you RolfB for continuing to leave me very kind comments. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Writing it from Rumple's perspective rather than Belle's was interesting. It's sort of a very sensual moment for both of them, though here we can see that it's really a lot deeper where Rumple is concerned. He's still in denial, but he's also sort of taking a step forward and allowing himself to say "yeah, I kinda like her in that way." It's one of my favorite Rumbelle moments in this fiction and it's going to lead to something really awesome in a couple of weeks. I hope you like it! If you are ready, let's move on to the next, I am positive you don't see it coming. Peace and Happy Reading!


	140. Making Trades and Staying Patient

Keeping himself away from Belle was the key. That day, in front of the mirror, things had gone a lot farther than they should have, he'd let himself touch her and therefore allowed himself to be intoxicated, something that never should have happened in the first place. Not to mention that after his mind had cleared of her scent and skin, he realized that she'd asked him a question about something she shouldn't have known. His family. Not a wife or a child. A family. How she'd known or figured it out was a great mystery. And a greater mystery was why he'd answered her question as honestly as he had. He hadn't given an entire truth, he hadn't fallen into her arms and given her his entire life's story. But what terrified him after that encounter was that he'd wanted to. He'd wanted so badly to tell her, to watch the look on her face as he confessed all his secrets, he wanted to see how she'd handle them. Would she use them against him as Zelena had? Store them away for a rainy day, as he often suspected Cora was? Or would she give that smile she so often did with others, put a hand on his arm and…

It was a close call, without a doubt. One that he couldn't afford. So, his plan was to stay busy, to not touch her as he had that day ever again, and to keep his mind occupied on other matters, matters that were important to the future, not the present.

Fortunately for him, it proved easier than he'd expected. He'd felt a stirring lately, just in the last few days, one that had nothing to do with his maid. The Seer was anxious, excited almost. He felt almost like she was whispering in his ear every moment of every day. The problem was that the whispering was so rapid and low he couldn't make out words. It was a buzzing. No, he couldn't make out the words, but it left him with a feeling that he could read all too easily, loud and clear.

Get ready.

Something was about to happen.

At first, it had frightened him. He'd felt anxious right along with the Seer and panicked; he wasn't ready for the Curse to hit yet. There were things to be done he hadn't prepared, contacts he hadn't made, potions he hadn't concocted. It took him six hours one night at the wheel to calm himself down, to remind himself that the Curse wasn't going to be cast tomorrow. There were multiple phases in this plan of his. Perhaps one of those phases was simply going to come to pass. He would do what he could. For him, that meant restocking his potions; making sure he had all his ingredients, brewing extras of the common ones he used all the time, and finding a black bag which he marked with his blood to put others in so that they might find him in the new world. He'd done well. Still, one thing remained missing, which was how he found himself in the middle of the night with a cloak drawn up against his face making back alley deal with his fastest connection to squid ink.

Clopin was a gypsy, not unlike the one he'd taken his original fairy wands from. However, Clopin's talents were not in singing or dancing as so many did, he was trafficker who disguised himself as a peddler. By day Clopin could be found anywhere around the Kingdom pushing a cart that held simple wares, by night, the cloth came off of that cart, secret compartments opened, and the lowest of the low knew to find him for anything they wanted to sell or buy. For the right price, Clopin had it all. Potions, squid ink, precious and rare flowers, books, weapons, foreign currency, a book from another realm, and, perhaps most notable of all, flesh.

It took him three days to locate the gypsy. Clopin moved about every day, he could be a tricky man to find. He had a special kind of magic that helped him keep his position hidden and for good reason. Somehow he always found him pushing his cart amongst large groups of people; sometimes half a dozen, other times three dozen. They were always ragged and sickly looking. Since he always met with Clopin at night, he always found them a fair distance from him, by a campfire, surrounded by makeshift tents, and dressed in gypsy clothes that did not fit. Clopin was a master of words, and he always told any authorities they were gypsies too, but he knew it wasn't true. They were often refugees from other realms. He wasn't sure of Clopin's connection, the man was too tight-lipped in that area and too valuable an ally to threaten, but sensing no magic on the man, he knew that someone brought them into this realm and it was Clopin's job to take them to a safe place, to settle them in their realm…for a price, as always.

"Where's this lot going?" he questioned, looking over the selection he had in the back of his cart tonight. Squid ink was among the many items he had, and the man was just now preparing it, pouring two vials for him from the large flask that he had. He was taking his time, a habit that he'd often noted Clopin had, he suspected, so that his customers would have time to look over his other products. It usually didn't work for him, but on this occasion, he couldn't help but notice that he had a fine selection of books. It wasn't surprising. It was Clopin who had once traded him for the book from the Land Without Magic that Belle had loved so much. He had promised her he'd look for more by that author, but none of the books in his cart revealed had the last name Lewis. Still, she'd always be happy with a new story to indulge in.

"Destined for King George's Kingdom."

"King George's Kingdom?" he blanched. "Hardly a profitable destination for them. Where are they from?"

"Oh…a realm not unlike ours, I'm told…just as I'm told that soon King George's Kingdom won't be 'hardly profitable'," he smiled as he handed over the vials.

He knew smiles like that, he used them all the time. It was a smile that demanded he ask "what have you heard?"

But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the gypsy sighed and turned his attention back to his cart, sealing the flask the ink was in and hiding it away as if he hadn't heard him. Rumple rolled his eyes, and after safely pocketing the vials, he pulled out a small coin purse and put two coins on the cart right under the man's nose. Everything was expensive with him…

"What have you heard?" he pressed again as Clopin safely put the coins away.

"I've heard King Midas has a dragon in his Kingdom."

"And how does a Dragon in a foreign Kingdom help our good King George?"

"Because the Golden King's wealth is his greatest asset. And gold isn't strength or braun, gold can't slay a dragon, just ask his daughter's former fiancé. Truth be told, the gold only draws the beast more to that Kingdom. But King George's son-"

"Prince James."

"The one and only. The boy is a strong fighter, handy with a sword. I've heard that Midas seeks to use the boy in order to slay the fearsome beast, and in return, Midas will shower the boy with something a bit softer than mere gold."

He let out a small giggle. First, because Clopin had no idea that James was not a "one and only" as he'd suggested, but second because his hint was loud and clear to him, especially since he recently had an experience of his own with a forbidden prize that was softer than gold.

"Softer than gold…a woman?"

Clopin nodded. "His only daughter, the Princess Abigail."

"Now that would be an interesting turn of events indeed…"

"Indeed, it would benefit these people greatly. Land worth nothing now will be rolling in gold after a royal wedding."

That might be what the Seer was so anxious about. Was it possible something was about to happen? Finally? After all these years? Clopin was referencing a royal wedding for Abigail and Charming, but he knew that I would never come to pass. His future was tied to Snow White. He wasn't sure just how long it would take from their initial meeting to marriage, conception, then birth, with James and Snow, but he did know that if something was going to start soon, then it meant that could stop thinking about seeing Baelfire in decades, and begin to think about years. And that was the best news he'd had in a long time. It filled him with a joy he hadn't felt since his boy had left him.

"Anything else I can do for you?" Clopin asked. No. Not a thing. But with the joyous news, he was suddenly feeling generous.

"You've been very helpful…but perhaps I can offer you something, a piece of vital information in exchange for this…" he waved the book he'd picked up with Belle in mind. He probably shouldn't be thinking of getting her gifts, but if it would make her half as happy as he suddenly was…

Clopin glanced at the book, then crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "'Tis not but a trinket, taking up space on my cart, I'd have given it away for free if you only asked."

"Oh!" he smiled. He doubted if Clopin had ever given anything away for free in all his life. "Well then, in that case…"

"If you only asked!" Clopin called after him as he turned to leave with it. He turned back to see him standing there with a look of terror on his face at the very thought that he might have lost something expensive. "But, since you did ask, I'll take your offer. What have you heard?"

"Oh, it's not what I've heard, but rather what I've seen. King George's Kingdom will be profitable one day. It'll be a good place, ruled by a benevolent Queen and her Prince Charming, but before this day comes, war will strike." He turned to look at the people through the trees who were gathered around the fire, settling into spare blankets or under jackets, men, women, and even children. In another life, he might have been them. "Take these people, put them in the farthest corners of the Kingdom where they'll be safe from the bloodshed and the call of the draft."

"War…war with who?" Clopin questioned skeptically.

Now there was a sight…or rather a vision. With the question came a clear image in his head, one that was put there just as clearly as the image of the dark-haired man that knew Baelfire.

_A line in the sand, on one side, Snow White and James and a thousand people dressed in rags and homemade armor. On the other side, a hundred people dressed in mail, Regina, and most shocking of all..._

"The King himself," he answered with a smile.

He watched as the lines of confusion disappeared from his face and stretched into one of dead shock. His eyes widened, and his gaze drifted over to the people by the fire. "That is…some valuable information…"

"Especially for your trade routes."

"Indeed. Here, take this…" From a place in his wagon, he pulled out a round object, with string and feathers. If he was honest, it looked like a craft project done by a toddler, but the moment Clopin put it in his hand he could feel magic in it. "A dreamcatcher…or memory-catcher if you prefer. I believe you would be able to work magic like that."

He nodded. He didn't, not at the moment, but if there was one thing he was best at, it was learning how to work magic he didn't know. He may not know how to use it now, but he would. "How much?"

"After the information you just gave…take it! And the book. I'm in debt to you."

"I'll remember that…"

There was no good-bye; there never was. They merely nodded at each other, then he took his ink, and catcher, and book, and sauntered into the forest. He never liked to disappear entirely from the sight of the strangers, for fear of association with Clopin. Not that the strangers ever knew who he was, new to this world as they were. He had yet to ever meet one that-

As he passed close to the fire, he heard the gasp of a small child. Automatically he turned toward the noise, half expecting to see a tearful toddler, but what he saw was a small boy of about six standing by the fire, looking him dead in the eye. The child seemed frozen in fear. All around him adults were hunkered down under anything they could call a blanket, but the boy stared at him with his jaw hanging open.

 _"Problem,"_ the Seer whispered in his head.

"The Dark One…"

Now it was his turn to be shocked, to go wide-eyed. No one ever knew him…how did a small boy know who he was?

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity that forced time to push forward. "Mommy!" the child cried, turning away from him. "Mommy! Mommy!" As the boy shrieked, he pulled his cloak quickly over his face and went into the dark of the forest where the fire wouldn't unveil him. "The Dark One! Mommy, it's the Dark One! I saw him!"

"What's going on?"

"What's happening?"

"What's the boy crying for?"

"It's nothing," he heard someone explain as he ducked behind a tree and pressed his back against the bark to be sure that he wouldn't be seen. "I'm sorry," a woman said, "he has this book he reads from our world, it's just stories."

A book? A book from their world? About him?

"It's not just stories!" he heard the boy cry. "The book says he lives here!"

A book from their world that mentioned him? That said he lived there?

"Jacob Horner-"

"It's true, Mommy! Look! It says right here! He lives here! He'll steal your eyes and eat you!"

"Jack…I think maybe I ought to take it. I'm sorry everyone…I think we might be taking our reading a bit too seriously."

"No! No! No, Mommy! No!" the boy cried. "Mommy, it has the story in it! It tells how he becomes not the Dark One anymore! Mommy, I have to keep it.

From behind, he heard a low rumble of laughter. They didn't believe the child, not yet anyway. They hadn't been here long enough to know that he had told them the truth. They were dismissing his claim, but he was practically salivating. A book from another world that mentioned him. Worse, a book that mentioned how he wouldn't be the Dark One anymore? From within his boot, he could feel his dagger pressing close against his leg. He wanted to see that book. He wanted to read that book. He needed it.

His heart was racing when he turned around and observed the scene by the fire. At a distance once more, it was difficult to see what was happening. Half the camp was settling back into sleep and ignoring the cries of the small boy. The other half was watching as the boy who had seen him struggle with his mother. It was a game of tug-of-war, and at the center of it was a thick green book.

He wanted to cry out, to scream. It would be easy, so incredibly easy to freeze the scene he saw before him, swoop in, and simply take the book from their hands…but nothing was ever as simple as all that. The book was the star, at the center of everyone's attention. Taking it right out from under their noses would look suspicious. When they came around after being frozen and realized the book had disappeared, he would be the first suspect. And if what the book said was true and the boy knew and told them, taking it now would be a problem. It could be a very real problem. But to ignore it and let the child go out into the world with it without knowing what was inside its pages…he couldn't let that stand.

He couldn't take it from the child now, but fortunately, he knew where they were heading. And it was clear from the way the boy clung to his novel that where he was, so would be that book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter probably doesn't make sense right now, my hope is that for long term Moments readers it will soon. This is actually working to set up a very important plot point from Moments Beyond. Like I said in the beginning, this story had a lot to accomplish and sometimes I have to put "set-up" chapters in. This one is sort of a set up to the set up. I think you'll like the last of it's chapters when it comes up, but that's not for a little bit. Jack Horner's chapters are few and far between in this fiction. He'll be back soon enough, but not enough to overwhelm the next episode we're going to cover, which this chapter also hints at!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I had a lot of fun in the Rumbelle section of having him make a point not to do something where Belle is concerned, then quickly turn around and do it. "I need to stay away from Belle, keep my distance, stop thinking about her...oh look, a book that I'm sure Belle will like as a present!" Good job, Rumple. Well done. Peace and Happy Reading!


	141. The Real Prince Charming

Thanks to Clopin's hints, he had a feeling that when King George summoned him, he would be asked to help with the slaughter of a dragon, perhaps a potion to ensure Prince James' safety. He did not expect what he actually saw.

Prince James, laid out on a table, unmoving. He was difficult to see through all the bodies and chainmail, but he could see the King before him staring down at the pretty face he'd been watching since birth upon the altar. Eyes closed. Unnaturally still. Suspiciously deathlike.

He nearly lost his breath when he focused his attention and magic onto the boy in front of him to confirm his suspicion.

No heartbeat.

He was dead.

He almost betrayed his presence in the room by letting out a groan at the realization of…everything. Damn this gift. Damn the fact that it was sometimes an utter mystery to him, unexplained and unknown until one thing happened and everything else seemed to fall into place. He should have panicked at the idea that his golden boy was dead, and he did feel angry at the fact that George had let the one person in the world he'd entrusted to him perish, but he felt neither of those things because the sense of realization was too overwhelming.

He was a fool. All this time, he'd had everything he needed right in front of him to put it together, but he hadn't until this moment right now. That feeling he'd had the morning he'd first dropped him off with George, that James was the wrong Prince but the right one all at the same time. The fact that he was unfit for Snow White but perfectly fit for a Prince which made him neither the False Prince nor Prince Charming. He was the right Prince at the right time. But now he was the wrong Prince. But his brother...he was the right Prince. Humble, born of nothing, raised in poverty, unafraid to speak his mind and do what was right just because it was honorable, willing to fight for the common man, eager to wait if love was the prize. David was the False Prince. Someone who would never fit in with the royals no matter how much he dressed him up. He would be Prince Charming. And James…the right wrong twin…for if James had never come here in the first place, the path would never have been cleared for his brother to be raised the way he was but had the opportunity he had before him now; an opportunity to take his place. How had he missed that?

"Goodbye, my son," King George muttered as a few of those soldiers he'd been standing behind moved forward and carried the body away. He could smell blood, old and stale as if from a wound. Perhaps that was what did the good Prince in.

"Your Majesty, there is no time to grieve," one of the soldiers suggested sidling up beside the King. "If Midas learns he is dead, he will find another warrior to slay his dragon, and we will never see an ounce of his gold."

"Yes, yes. The Kingdom must survive," the King agreed half-heartedly. That was interesting enough. Half-hearted was still half a heart more than he ever would have guessed Old George had.

"So, what are we to do?"

"I have asked for help," he responded after a short pause. "It should be here soon."

Ordinarily, he wouldn't have heeded the summons considering what had been so carelessly done to James. But at the pronouncement, he rose out of his chair at their pretend round table. It was his cue. With careful steps, he could fix this. He could set things the way they were always meant to be.

"Oh, it's here."

Angry as he was, first and foremost, he was the Dark One. He had a reputation to live by, a mask to wear for those who expected it of him. He had experience with George, he knew what he wanted, which was why when the soldiers all turned around to look in the direction of the strange voice, he made sure he was the only one wearing a smile. A knowing smile, but a smile just the same. He was upset, but he was comforted by the knowledge the Seer had given him years ago. This was fixable, he just had to speak to the King, who, to his shock and amazement, did, in fact, have tears in his eyes.

"Leave us," the King instructed the guard at his side.

The guard gave a skeptical sort of look, but nonetheless took steps forward. "Move!" he ordered, and just like that, the rest of the guards filed out of the room, leaving him all alone with the King.

"So, this is how you treat my gifts? You really must be more careful," he chastised.

"He was not a gift," the King argued weakly. "He was my son."

"A son I gave you."

"In a deal we made!" he fought back, all the while he smiled on. It was cute, really it was, whenever royals and other "higher-ups" attempted to assert their dominance over him. It never worked. He would always be the most powerful person in the room, no matter who's Kingdom he was in. "You did me no favors!"

"Yes, yes, I did!" he insisted, turning to face the man. He'd offered a mirror, one to another realm that had been quite helpful in ridding himself of Cora and finding Jefferson, which had been a very profitable relationship, all was true. But what the King didn't understand was that he would have brought James here for nothing if he'd had to. He was essential to his plan or at least that was what he thought. Now, it turned out, all the cards were in his hand again. And he wanted to be sure the King knew it. "Shame you and the queen couldn't conceive a child on your own. My price for that was a pittance. But now that she's gone, well, I assume that conceiving another heir is out of the question – let alone a dragon slayer."

"Then let's do another deal," George shot back. He rubbed his hands together, nervously, trying to form his idea. "Bring him back. I need my son to do this. I'll give you anything."

He had a feeling that he knew what the King would ask for the moment he realized the situation, but he also knew that he couldn't give him what he wanted, not without tracking down the Doctor in a Land Without Color. However, his knowledge of the future told him this was a situation he had to deal with. He'd been watching David compulsively for decades just as he'd been watching James. He knew George and his family, and he didn't exactly expect the King and David would get along half as well as David would with Snow White. But then…wasn't that the secret? He didn't have to make it work with David and George for an eternity, he just had to make it last long enough for him to encounter Snow White. Maybe even less than that, if Clopin's intelligence was true. He just had to get the boy engaged to Abigail. By then, the lie could become a truth. He could do it. But this required careful wording

"Anything?" he challenged. That was one of his favorite words. There was always a lot of potential in "anything."

"What do you want?"

Besides David at the side of Snow White…not much. This was a deal he'd never really planned on making, but he couldn't just let him have David for nothing! His reputation was at stake, and the King might suddenly grow a brain and think that he was up to something. What did he want for David? A vision he hadn't had for a while flashed in his mind.

_Six wands lined up on a wooden stand in a place he did not know yet._

Six wands…he had six wands, but one of them was not part of the six, and he only currently owned five of the six after Robin stole one. He could think of one thing the King could give him, one thing the Seer was compelling him to ask for. He'd been watching the King all his life, and as he felt like he was nearing the end of this journey, there was one thing he wanted but had yet to get his hands on since his own had gone missing. The King did have a partnership with a certain Gold Fairy. It was better than nothing, lest the King figure out he was up to something.

"There's a magic wand I desire. It belongs to a certain fairy godmother, who's patron to your family. And I want to know her whereabouts." Wouldn't that be a perfect way to get back at the Blue Fairy for the trouble she'd caused? Take out one of her most decorated Fairies and acquire her wand along the way. Oh, he could barely wait!

He watched as King George thought about it, pressed his teeth together so hard a muscle jumped in his jawline. "Done!" he finally snapped. "Now tell me–how do I bring my son back to slay the dragon?"

With careful wording of his own...

"Bring him back?" he questioned falsely. "Oh, no, that's out of the question. He's dead. Magic can do much, but not that."

"But you just said-"

"Nothing about resurrection!" he corrected, shouting right back at the King. His terms were that he needed a son to slay the dragon, and so he would have a son to slay the dragon…it just wouldn't be Prince James. He hadn't figured that part out yet, it seemed.

"Then, my Kingdom…is lost," the King pronounced so dramatically he rolled his eyes. "I'm alone."

Fools. Did they think that he made deals just for the fun of hearing words? He'd gone through the trouble of stating a price, and he was a busy man. Did the King not wonder why he would put a price on something he couldn't do?

"Oh, dear," he chimed, sounding falsely upset and dancing closer to the King just to make him feel uneasy. He was a man in mourning, but as far as he was concerned, he was a father who had allowed his child to die. He had little pity for him. "Oh, dearie, dearie, dear. Did I not tell you that I could have your son slay the dragon? And am I not a man of my word?"

"I thought you said he was gone forever?" the King yelled in frustration.

"Oh, that he is," he confirmed. "But his brother…"

"His what?!" the King demanded, his interest suddenly roused.

"His twin brother," he asserted, letting another important detail slip. "Did I not mention there was another?" he laughed as a spark of hope danced into King George's face. That was the look of a man who was desperate enough to play his games willingly. It was a look that would sign away the shepherd's fate.

Dear David would become a false prince if there ever was one, he would come to know Snow White in every way a man possibly could know a woman, he was the real Prince Charming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep! It's time! It's time to get into some of the Snow White Prince Charming drama! It's funny the things that you learn when you are putting everything in order for this fiction. I had never thought David became Prince Charming so early on, while Belle was at the castle. But, then we remember that this will lead into the 3x21/3x22 chapters, which she was clearly there for, and that after she's gone Regina makes a comment about Ariel and by that episode it's also clear that Snow has already met Charming. And so, it all starts coming together. Like I told you in the beginning...rubber...meet road.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments. I'm glad you were pleased to see Clopin in the last chapter and thought he was a good fit! Jack Horner will be back soon enough and I think by then it'll all be a lot more clear about what it'll lead to. Unlike this chapter. We know what this leads to. Anyone wanna meet a Shepherd? Peace and Happy Reading!


	142. How to Strike a Desperate Deal

Deals were careful things. There was an art to dealmaking, especially when it included things of great importance; children, life and death, money. He had found in his lifetime that the key to making the sort of deals he offered was to do it quickly. Leave the mark with no time to think about it or the consequences. Overwhelm the poor soul with all the "what if's" and terrible regrets he could think of. Make them believe that there was no other choice but the one that he offered. It should be salvation to them, something they took because in that moment they believed they'd be foolish not to.

He'd never taken any numbers or bothered to do the statistics, but if he had to guess he'd say that since he became the Dark One, ninety percent of his deals had followed that pattern. The other ten percent was the category he found himself in today.

Nervous, jumpy, perhaps even a little sad; all were emotions he confronted in himself as he prepared to make a visit once more to Ruth's farm. David's father had died years ago, not long after he'd located James on Pleasure Island. He knew the woes of the family, for though he'd taken James to George and felt sure he was making the right choice, over the years the Seer had pushed him to continue watching the child. Now it was obvious why. He knew David, he knew the way he thought, what made him tick, the kind of man he was. He'd seen it all.

After the battle with Bo Peep the family had fallen on hard times. Though the warlord didn't often bother them these days, bills had. They'd sold off most of their land, done away with the barns and even well-cut fences in order to make end's meat. Still, other than their monetary woes, they were happy. David was happy.

And now, he was to be the bearer of bad news. Now he had to tell the mother that the son he'd taken from her years ago had died. This was a deal unlike any other he'd ever. Unlike others, this one was going to require time. Time he didn't have. Prince James had died yesterday morning. He'd made his deal with George last night, promising to deliver the boy to him by this day. David had been out in the field with the sheep nearly all morning, and now it was midafternoon. As the Dark One, he was conscious of the fact that he was running out of time to get him there. As a father, he knew there wasn't enough time in the world to tell a parent their child, a child he had taken, had died…and then convince them to give him the other.

When he arrived, the pair of them failed to notice him even though some of the sheep startled at his appearance. Mother and son were on the other side of the crudely made fence, talking intently about exactly what he needed them to be thinking about…money.

"Mother, please," David stressed. "As poor as we are, love is one thing I can afford. I will find a way to save this farm, but I won't do it by marrying for riches. When I marry, I want it to be because I choose to spend the rest of my life with someone I love."

The look Ruth responded with was one of sympathy. She reached out and cupped her son's cheek in her hand, gently at first, then gave him a couple of taps, meant to resemble half-hearted slaps. "When are you going to learn? You can't have everything."

What an ironic choice of words. Love and the farm…odd how what he was here to sell would lead to both!

"Or perhaps he can!" he announced, drawing their attention to him and striking a pose. After all, he wasn't meeting them for the first time, but this was undoubtedly the only time one of them would remember him. He gave a small laugh as David's face twisted in shock and then confusion. Ruth's reaction, however, was enough to remind him that he wasn't here because of a laughing matter. The woman paled, her jaw dropped, and while David's look was someone who was startled in a prank, the look on her face was one of absolute terror.

"Dark One…what are you doing here? What do you want?!" With little warning, the woman had grabbed her son's staff and taken two strides over to him. He didn't move or even flinch, merely let David vault himself over the fence and throw his arms around her.

"Mother! Mother, stop, what's happening?!"

Ruth was just as feisty as he remembered her, and smart too. Even after David took the staff from her, she never took her eyes off of him. She suspected something, but he doubted it was what he'd actually come here to say.

"I'm afraid I come bearing ill tidings," he announced, straightening his face and looking her in the eyes. This was the part of the job he did not relish at all. "Prince James has died."

The words took her no time at all to digest. In fact, her face paled so fast that he was certain she'd probably lapped up every bit of information she could on the Prince over these last few years, storing every little grain of fact as if it was gold. This was not something she wanted to store away, though he was certain she would until the day she died. Her reaction outdid anything he'd seen of George last night, betraying to the world the true parent between the two. Fiesty as she was and he'd always known her to be, she lost it all in that moment. She placed a hand over her heart and the other just below her belly, where the boys once resided safely and fell to her knees. He said nothing as David went to her side. He did nothing but remain stoic. He was cruel, but he wasn't so cruel as to disturb a woman who had just found out her child had died and was in mourning. For he knew that there truly was nothing in the moment that would help her. Nothing but time.

"Mother?! Mother, what's wrong? What's wrong with her?" David questioned of him as she sank further to the ground.

For the first time in a long while he felt true surprise throw him out of balance. "Oh dear," he muttered, looking at the woman, knowing she was incapable of answering. "It would seem you kept to your deal of silence and never did tell him, did you?"

Suddenly all this got far more complicated than he'd expected, more than he'd wanted, and he felt like he was intruding on a family matter on the worst day of their lives. This was one of the few times he would have liked to walk away, to return to his castle and sit in the quiet with Belle for a while, spinning as she read. But he had little choice in the matter. This needed to be done today.

"Tell me what?! Mother…" David reached down again to attempt to pull her to her feet.

"See to your dear mother," he ordered of the boy. "Once you've done that, I have need of you."

He watched the pair of them from a bench in the yard as David got Ruth to her feet and moved her to the door of their home. He didn't take her into the house. In the end, she managed to pull herself together and wouldn't let him, but she did allow David to disappear for a moment inside. He returned a few minutes later with what he assumed was a gourd of water. She drank it down quickly, and he watched as her color returned, her tears dried, and she took a few deep breaths. She hugged her son as she sniffled and the last dregs of overwhelming grief waned into sorrow.

"I had no idea the prince meant so much to you," he heard David mutter against her shoulder.

"Oh no…no, you wouldn't…you wouldn't know because…because we couldn't tell you," Ruth admitted. It was a lowly thing to do, to listen to this particular conversation. But in his own defense, they were having it practically right in front of him after they'd had the opportunity to move inside. If they'd wanted privacy, they should have taken it. Besides, it wasn't as if he hadn't spied on them before. Now he was simply out in the open about it.

"Mother…what haven't you told me? Who is that man? What is he?! What does he know that I don't?"

"Oh my son," she stepped up close and once again put her hand to his cheek. She took a breath, but instead of words to David, she looked over at him. Her gaze was questioning, and it wasn't hard to decipher. The deal was not to tell…could she now? He nodded at her then turned to look forward, giving the illusion of privacy, but listened as she took another breath. Frankly, he was shocked she'd kept that part of the deal from David at all. "You have…had a brother."

There was a shuffle from David's direction, and he glanced over to see the man had taken a step out of his mother's grasp. Now it was his turn to turn white. His heart had skipped a beat at the news, and now he squinted at his mother as if she was the sun. It was a look of searching and disbelief, one that begged for the truth while desperate to erase it all at once.

"A…a brother?" he choked.

Ruth nodded gently, then wiped a tear from her eye. "A twin brother, yes. You were born weak, both of you. And the King had no children! We needed medicine or the pair of you wouldn't survive. The Dark One…he came in the night…he offered us an option that would allow you both to live."

For a moment, the False Prince paced, he moved away from his mother and rubbed his jaw as if thinking of something intense. But then he turned back, and when he saw his mother, his features softened.

"A twin brother?" David breathed, obviously still taking it in. "And you gave him to that man?"

"We were poor, barely surviving, then…" Ruth paused, and he glanced back over at Ruth only to see she'd looked at him to. "He came along with an offer. One of you for the farm." He turned away, but continued to listen. It was an interesting tale that she spun, but not exactly the truth. The farm had not exactly been the cost of the boy, it had been the medicine, but he had left him that Florin, which was enough to keep this place up and running for long enough. Perhaps that's how she comforted herself, by thinking that she gave away her son not for a bottle of medicine but for her property.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"The deal forbade us from ever speaking of it. Your father regretted the decision the minute that man took your brother. He carried the guilt with him to his grave." He heard Ruth's heart skip and looked over to see her grab her son's hand. In his head, there was a push from the Seer, one that told him that dealing with Ruth wasn't going to get him what he wanted. He needed to talk to the boy, to David and preferably alone lest Ruth tell him to do something that worked against him. He had no doubt in his mind that David would trust his mother over him. If she asked him to stay, he would. And that was a problem.

"Hate to interrupt this tender moment," he inserted. "Time is of the essence."

Ruth glared at him, looked at him with a gaze so cold that he would have shivered if he still could. David, on the other hand, looked at him almost as if he was no longer scared, as if he was just any other man.

"Mother, wait in the house while I deal with this," he insisted gently enough. A perfect and unexpected pronouncement. It turned out he didn't have to deal with the mother, after all, just the future father of the key to his entire plan.

"What do you want from me?" David asked, meandering over to him.

"Oh, not me, dear. The King. He needs a prince to slay a dragon," he answered, animatedly pretending to stab an imaginary foe to drive the point home. A task like that should have shaken the heart of any shepherd, even one who had a little training with a sword as he knew David had. But his expression didn't change, he didn't look skeptical or fearful or even hopeful. He just looked detached as if he hadn't anything to worry about, for it wasn't his problem. That was a mindset he needed to change.

"I'm not a dragon slayer."

"No, but your brother was. This newfound kinship will be your salvation. Simply play the part. The King's knights will take care of everything else. All you must do, is deliver the dragon's head to Midas," he announced, unveiling his plan just as he had to King George just a few short hours ago. It was simple and fool-proof. And most important of all, it got David in the position he needed to be to meet Snow White.

But there wasn't an ounce of excitement on the shepherd's face. James had been a fun-loving sort of prince…he was beginning to wonder if the shepherd had ever heard the word. What country boy wouldn't be at least a little ecstatic to go and play Prince for a day?

"What's in it for you?" David asked skeptically.

"What's in it for me is my business. You should be asking yourself what's in it for you," he answered, turning the subject back on him. "You do this, your poor mother, well…the King is going to make sure she never wants for anything ever again. Your farm will be saved and you…should you survive," he muttered off-handly, "you shall come home the conquering hero. Now, don't tell me you don't want that?"

Finally, he saw the slightest shift in the shepherd's posture, one that went from unwarranted pride to humble defeat as he looked upon the field, the small Kingdom that had once been his was dwindling. The possibility of getting it back should have been too strong to resist. He need not know that he would never return to see it for himself.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" he finally muttered.

"Oh, everyone has a choice, dearie!" he remarked, sitting back and crossing his legs. "Just make sure it's the right one." The deal was made. If he was asking that question, it was as good as done.

"My mother and I…if I go through this...this little charade of yours…we'll keep the farm."

"Sheep and all!" he informed him with certainty. George had given him the authority to promise him any kind of riches or promises it took. He did love a desperate King. Almost as much as he loved a desperate farmer. That was the one thing in dealmaking that never changed, no matter the situation. When two people both had something the other needed, a deal could always be struck.

"I'll do it."

He let out a loud laugh and clapped his hands together at the pronouncement. "Right choice, dearie! That…is the right choice indeed!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so hoping you'll think this chapter came out okay. It's not like I usually like to do it like this. In a perfect world telling Ruth James was dead would have been one chapter, David learning about James would have been another, and then we would have ended up with Rumple finally talking to David in its own chapter, but I found there just wasn't enough material to do that. We get little snippets of Rumple's visit to Ruth's farm but we never actually get the entire thing. So this chapter is really the combination of three separate snippets, with me adding in the "in-between" parts. I'm hoping it all flows together. There are a few places I had to ask myself if I'd written that line or if the writers did and that's usually a pretty good omen. I hope you'll think the same.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm looking forward to your thoughts on this scene but also hearing your thoughts on where we're going next. It's a scene we never really got to see but I always wished we did! I can't wait! Peace and Happy Reading!


	143. The Price for a Prince

"My God…he's the spitting image!"

The soldier the King had brought with him to this little meeting gasped at David. The moment his eyes landed on him, they went wide with amazement. But King George was stoic. He stared wordlessly at the man he'd brought to him just before sundown.

David's choice to come was easy for him to accept, but getting his mother to accept it had been a bit of a trial. Fortunately for him, the shepherd told him to stay out of it and promised he'd go and get her to agree to the notion. That particular conversation they'd had inside. He'd waited outside on that bench for nearly three hours, finishing off the ale in his flask, and wondering if he'd make it home in time for dinner with Belle. Most of the time the house had been quiet. Every now that then he'd hear indistinct shouting, both masculine and feminine. Finally, only a few minutes earlier, David had emerged. Over his shoulder, he had a bag, something like what his father had brought to the castle when he'd seen him, something he was certain was filled with clothes David wouldn't need where he was going. Ruth followed him out.

"The King only needs him for this? This is it?!" she demanded of him, untrustingly. And for good reason. The deal was simple, and it was true, both as he'd presented it and for now. King George had tasked him to retrieve David, he could play the part while his soldiers, who would be the only others who had knowledge of the trick, killed the dragon. After that, they would spread the rumor that the Prince had fallen ill and died, allowing David to return home to his quiet life. It was agreed upon. What he wasn't sharing was the future or Clopin's rumors; he wasn't going to tell George what he knew just so that when this moment arrived, he could honestly answer "that's the deal." They didn't need to know yet that the deal was likely to change. With that, David had hugged his mother and promised he'd be back as soon as possible. She'd wished him luck, sneered once more at him, and then in a puff of red smoke, they were gone.

Now they stood in King George's study, the two of them facing the King and the Captain of the Guard he'd seen earlier. The Captain continued his wide-eyed stare at David, his jaw drooping lower and lower by the second. King George had taken one look at his clothes and hair, one sniff of the farm, and was considerably less impressed.

"Well, did I not promise he would be?!" he asked of the King, despite the promise being made to George. He was judgmental, but quiet. His eyes showed a man utterly conflicted. He'd brought him someone who simultaneously looked and did not look like his son. And he appeared dumbstruck by it.

"So…you're the King?" David questioned, looking at him nervously but with pride as well. What was he planning?

"No!" he inserted before he could say more. "No, no, no, no…he's your father! Remember, you're taking the place of your dear departed brother, who loved and admired his father above all."

Now it was him that David turned his glare upon. "I had a father."

"And now you have another!" he countered before turning back to the King. "Isn't he…charming?!"

The King let out a short but heavy exhale as he broke into laughter. "Needs a haircut," was all he seemed able to state.

"But it's…uncanning!" the soldier breathed, beginning to circle David as if he were a vulture seeking his prey. "Your Majesty, he has muscles soldiers train years for!"

David shrugged. "Comes from working all my life in the fields, baling hay, carrying sheep, building fences…"

"He'll do just fine." The soldier smiled with such admiration that he laughed gleefully. At least one person was happy with the arrangement.

"David is the identical twin of your Prince James. Raised by his mother on a struggling farm, I believe you are familiar with his father, who passed some years ago. He had a bit of a love for the bottle," he announced in a tone that pretended he wasn't.

"My father loved me," David insisted.

"Well, no one said he didn't! He had the wisdom when you were but a baby to save you and your brother by making a deal with me…I'm only saying that he also loved his barman. And!" he inserted as David opened his mouth to argue. "Fortunately for you," he explained, pointing to George and the soldier, " due to a little problem a few years back with a certain warlord we're all familiar with, David has some experience with a sword."

"Yeah, a problem you did nothing about, by the way," David inserted, looking at the King as if he were guilty of murder. He supposed from David's perspective, knowing some of the crimes Bo Peep committed, he was guilty, seeing as how he didn't do anything about her. But David was a good reminder as to why he didn't sell people. It was difficult to convince someone an individual was the answer to all their prayers when they kept accusing the buyer of crimes against humanity. "And…how did you know about that?" David questioned, suddenly crossing his arms over his chest and turning to face him with a smirk on his face. He supposed that meant to make him feel guilty. If he only knew…

"What I know would send chills down your spine," he muttered under his breath, then turned his gaze on the King. As long as he was making veiled threats... "Same for you."

"You've handled a sword?" the soldier questioned, looking him over and ignoring the tension in the room.

David swallowed as he turned his attention back to the man in armor. "Yeah…" he admitted half-heartedly. "A bit, a long time ago, and it was mostly luck."

"Handling a sword like your son was never a requirement of this deal!" he added quickly, lest George think that he hadn't delivered exactly what he'd said he would. "His skill, however great or feeble it may be is simply a perk! I've thrown it in for free!"

"It's good," the soldier nodded. "I can take him, get him trained up a bit, teach him to handle armor and a shield for his own protection. He'll be able to fool Midas all day long."

"Hey this…this is just for now!" David insisted, turning back to him with wide eyes, seeking clarification.

Finally, King George opened his mouth but wary as David was he couldn't imagine anything coming out of that man's mouth that would help this situation.

"Ah-h-h-h!" he hushed, waving a finger in the King's direction. "The boy is right. It is 'just for now' but…go with it, see where this path takes you. You never know where it might lead!"

"I know where it leads," David answered confidently. "Home."

There was a sudden shift in the air, a flicker of energy coming from King George as he looked David over but not as he had been before. He wasn't judging anymore, he'd made up his mind. "It seems you chose well in their infancy," George suddenly stated. "My son would never have been so ignorant of the gifts he was given. How remarkable…I see my son's face buried somewhere beneath that mane, I hear his voice somewhere in that arrogant attitude, but I do not recognize my son. He'll do. He's good for a cheap forgery, but he's nothing like him."

He could have reached out and murdered the King on the spot. Did he have any idea how to seal a deal? It would seem not!

"I'm sorry I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth," David snapped at the insult.

While he was at it, he might have killed David as well.

The pair stared at each other with a natural hatred he'd rarely seen, not even between Regina and Snow. It was hate born of bias and classism. David, raised in a poorly way, had grown up seeing the lush way the royals lived, taking their taxes and filling their halls with gold. He despised the King for everything he was. And the King, in turn, had grown up learning to have respect for politics and the mind games that the upper-class had to work through in order to get where they were and stay where they were. He despised what David was and thought little of him for not picking himself up out of the dirt he was born in. They were natural-born enemies. But enemies that needed each other, one far more than he realized.

"Well then!" he interrupted, stepping between the two. "I guess it'll be hard to get attached," he joked before taking another step forward and planting himself next to the King. "Have the soldier train him up, make him look pretty as your son, see that the dragon is slayed, and after you've made your deal with Midas you can announce that the good Prince James has been struck by the fatal Dragon Pox, an unfortunate side effect of being too close to our scaly friends. If he hears the boy was killed directly because of his encounter with his dragon, then I daresay the King will feel enough responsibility he'll give you all the money your country desires. David here goes home to his mother and his farm and you'll go back to ruling your country, and ne'er the two of you shall meet again! Can we all agree to those terms?"

He looked between the two men again. Though he'd been speaking to the King, he'd intended for David to hear him loud and clear as well. After a short moment of quiet, David finally shrugged. "I will if he will."

"I will if he will," George agreed.

"Good!" he inserted quickly. "I trust you'll take it from here, yes?"

"Yes," the soldier answered. "I'll take him, your Majesty," he inserted. That was when it dawned on him that the soldier was probably just as devoted to this idea working as he was. David accepting this deal assured him of his position and title going forward. That was probably why he treated him as if he was the Prince now. Reaching down to take his bag and ushering him quickly through the servant's halls so that he wouldn't be seen until his hair was cut and he was changed. With the pair of them gone, the temperature in the room dropped significantly. King George wasn't exactly his favorite person in the world to be alone with.

"You have my gratitude for the boy."

"Oh, if only your gratitude was worth weight!" he shrieked with a laugh. "It's not your gratitude I require, just…my price."

"Yes…her exact location is unknown as she tends to move around. But I've written down for you a list of her…clients, shall we say. She mostly caters to royalty though she has been known to slum on a few occasions. I hope it'll be most helpful."

He snatched the paper out of his hand and looked it over. This wasn't exactly what they had agreed to, not at all, but his price, in this case, was secondary. With as much as he had hanging on David, it wasn't as if he could take him back to the farm. It would have to do.

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, pocketing the paper. "Enjoy your new son!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter exists because for the longest time I could have sworn we'd seen it. I had all the words, the scene in my head and it all sounded like something A&E would have written so I assumed it was actually part of the series. But I've watched all of George's scenes, I've watched all of David's flashbacks, and I've checked the deleted scenes and the scraps that we have from A&E's twitter accounts and I can't find any reference to a scene like this, which leads me to believe that I've just made it up. And at this point, I hope I've made it up because if one of you comes back and says "nope, it's right here, we've seen it, I'll send you the link" then I've obviously got some editing to do. 
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter. I know this chapter isn't one of the seen scenes, but I hope you'll like it either way. I felt it really sort of shows the early distaste George and David have for each other and how one step could lead to a big leap for them both. I had a lot of fun "channeling" King George, even if I was convinced for a time the words weren't mine. I enjoyed trying to show the pride he felt for James and giving him a reason to hate David even before he really has a reason to truly hate him. Peace and Happy Reading!


	144. What the Dove Saw

Pirithous was not exactly happy when he summoned him into the tower that night. But then, when had he ever been happy to be summoned? In a perfect world, he'd have gone on using Theseus as his spy, as it was now Pirithous was all he had, happy or not.

"I have need of you," he commented as the bird-man stood before him.

"Obviously…what will your bidding be this time, O Mighty Dark One…"

He glanced up at him, very unimpressed with his sarcasm. "A little less cheek, perhaps…"

The boy didn't respond, just rolled his eyes and awaited his orders.

"I'm sending you to King George's kingdom. There's a deal I'm overseeing, and I'd like to oversee it…closer."

Pirithous rolled his eyes and shook his head. "With all your magic…why don't you just do it yourself? Wouldn't it be easier to just take my shapeshifting ability and go yourself?"

He laughed at such a suggestion. "Would you like me to?" he threatened. Pirithous remained silent because they both knew that he didn't want such a thing. Sure, it would free him from being useful, but it would also ground him for the rest of his life. He could take the power, but to never perch in the trees again, to never soar high above the clouds, feel the wind beneath his wings, they both knew he'd be unhappy with such an arrangement.

"Sometimes I prefer 'boots on the ground'…or should I say claws," he finally explained to him. "Besides…I'm a busy man."

"And I'm not?!" Pirithous argued. "My father is unwell, the crown will soon be mine, I need to take a wife, have a child, and prepare to take his place."

"Yes, and you can add serving me to that list." Whine, whine, whine, whine! It was never-ending with him! He wanted to take a wife, but he couldn't imagine one that would like a husband that whined as he did about everything. Pirithous had a kingdom to run someday, but he had the Curse of a lifetime to cast and break. A curse, he might add, that would make his rule a hell of a lot shorter than he would ever imagine. Therefore, his tasks were the ones that would take priority.

"Now listen…in King George's Kingdom, I want you to pay close attention to Prince James, stick closely to him."

"As if I have a choice," he sighed like a bored teenager.

"You don't," he remarked. "Oh! And there's this one other little thing that you might need to know. The Prince recently hit his head…if he or any of his fellow soldiers should call him 'David' a time or two…I'd think nothing of it."

"What's that supposed to-"

"Good-bye!" he shouted, sending him off to a faraway land before he could ask any more questions.

He was busy. He intended to watch David himself, of course, but out in the world, on the way to King Midas territory, he knew that it was unlikely there would be any mirrors to watch, or better yet, hear, from. Aside from that, it wasn't only David he was interested in. Now that he was positive the right twin had the crown, and his future, within his grasp, there was another person he needed to keep his eyes on.

He located Snow White in Sherwood Forest. In order to get to the Dragon, David would have to travel through Sherwood Forest, and he half expected he'd meet the Princess there. But he didn't. He shouldn't have been surprised. He wasn't quite sure how their love story would play out, but he knew that Abigail was going to be part of it. Anything that happened, he figured, wouldn't happen until after the dragon was dead and Midas' offered his daughter to David.

He kept an eye on Snow just as he did David. Sherwood Forest, Midas' Wood, King George's Kingdom, and the outskirts of her own former Kingdom…those were her frequent haunts, and now would be David's as well. If he pulled this off, then they'd be on the road for the next several days giving the pair ample opportunity to meet face to face.

David made it to Midas's Kingdom, and so the hoax began. He watched the pair's interaction, but Midas seemed none the wiser that the man before him was not Prince James. Though it helped, he assumed, that David was always surrounded by George's troops, all of whom were in on the trick, and chosen specifically to make David look good just as he'd instructed. But David…he was an impressive man; well raised. He was good. The kind of person that he could see Snow White falling for easily as opposed to James who was haughty, devious, and spoiled. It was odd how one little detail could allow the future to fall into place so clearly!

David slayed the dragon. To his own shock, he did it on his own. Not George's troops or soldiers, not the special team he'd assembled to keep David alive. David himself was the one who did the deed.

With a bit of luck and bravery and another fallen soldier's sword, he beheaded the creature with a single blow. Afterward, as was custom, the head of the beast was taken back to King George's castle. Royals and their foolish traditions…

Because David had killed the beast, that meant that it was considered his kill, his property. At the castle of King George, where the challenge was issued, that was where the deal between them had to be sealed, the official place that he had to surrender the head to King Midas, in the sight of King George. From his tower he watched as Midas and George did the talking, David stood there pretending, convincingly, that he understood the ins and outs of their movements and negotiations, though he looked a little too mesmerized the moment that Midas touched the head and turned it to gold. And then it happened. Just as he was told it would, but still surprising all the same. When the ritual called for the King to spoil the victor with riches, the daughter, Abigail, entered the room.

Words were exchanged, she looked unimpressed at the boy but eventually shrugged.

David moved forward and began to explain something with a small shake of his head before the King swallowed him up in a hug that lasted too long and yet not long enough! Something important was happening! He was telling him something, obviously enough. But by the time he'd examined the room and found a shiny surface he might peer through to hear what he was saying, it was over; the moment, the words, all of it. And that was why he always preferred to have someone close to the action. When the ritual was concluded, he wasted no time summoning Pirithous back to tell him what happened.

"It was a threat!" the bird burst out the moment he was back. "The King threatened the Prince! He took him aside under Midas' eye and told him that the would kill him, kill his mother, and burn down the Prince's farm if he said anything but 'yes' to the union with Midas' daughter! The Queen has been dead for years! Just what are you playing at?! Who is that in the Prince's clothes?!" he demanded angrily.

He ignored his outburst and kept his hands gathered together in front of him, maintaining his calm demeanor. Whatever Pirithous was feeling wasn't his concern, and he certainly hadn't sent him out there to put it all together on his own.

"Did he say yes?"

"Of course he said yes!" he shouted. "What else would there be to say?! King George is ruthless. My parents want nothing to do with his Kingdom and for good reason. I want nothing to do with it! But I need to know who I'm dealing with before I ascend the throne."

He smirked, but smiling was far from the emotion that he was feeling. He'd put it together and now knew there was a state secret going around. Soon being King would begin to color his thinking and since he'd inherited this job he didn't expect him to be as devoted to it as his dear father had. Indeed, Pirithous made dealing with Theseus look like a pleasure. Perhaps the bird was coming to the end of his usefulness as his rule drew closer. He had a brother, and several cousins that shared family blood, the loyalty he'd demanded from Theseus would work for all of them.

"Worry not, little prince. This is one change that will be of use to you. For if Prince James takes the throne with his bride, I've no doubt that the Kingdom will be a better place under his rule."

He'd hoped that words of prophecy might have had the same effect on Pirithous that they had on Clopin, but instead, the man's eyes narrowed. "Prince James, the real Prince James," he stressed, "is cut from the same cloth as his father. That… _man_ is not Prince James."

"All will be revealed in good time."

But the dove wouldn't let it go. He could see that plain as day written all over his face. The wheels in his head were turning; pieces were coming together. But the full story was still just beyond his reach, and he felt confident that unless he talked to David himself, it always would be. Most of the soldiers who knew who he was had been killed. Midas had no idea. George wouldn't tell for that reason alone. And he was certain that David would keep his secret for his mother's sake, and his mother would keep it for David's sake. Unless David chose to tell Snow White, the secret would die with him. But he could see easily enough in Pirithous eyes that it wasn't good enough for him.

Damn.

"Send me back."

"What?!" he shrieked. "Before you were begging me to leave you be, why would you want to go back?"

"In a few days, the Prince, whoever he may be, and Abigail are moving from King Midas' current palace into his new home. But tomorrow morning the Prince is going somewhere. Before I left, he asked one of the stable hands to prepare a horse for the journey in the morning. He begged the King to excuse him from breakfast and he agreed, reminding him again not to make a choice he'd regret. What is going on? I want to know! If that means I have to go back to find out, then so be it!"

Useful information, Pirithous had always provided useful information and done good work for him, but only so long as he wasn't attached to his work. With emotions that strong, as much as he wanted to see where he would go, he couldn't allow it. Not anymore.

"Too bad!" he laughed, with a snap of his fingers the bird was back in his own bed Kingdoms away from here. With any luck he would know to keep his mouth shut. He'd hate for the family to lose their King and their Prince all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it seems odd now, but this chapter is necessary for the next section. There were points in this fiction that I needed Theseus and Pirithous to see and hear what Rumple couldn't be bothered with. But now, it is for that very reason, that I need to get rid of him. This allows Pirithous to exit gracefully...until I have need for him in the next fiction. True story, the section that comes after is sort of boring. It's my least favorite section. But trust me when I say that if I didn't do this, it would be ten times more boring. Rumple is in the next section, but it's a disjointed story for him. If I didn't find a way to get him a little bit more involved, it would have been bad, trust me on this. 
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. This is the last of the 1x06 chapters and considering where it ends you probably can guess where we're going from here. As far as this chapter goes...ugh, I'm so sorry for all the movement. It was so stupid. David goes from George's Kingdom, to Midas' Kingdom because that's where the dragon is, then he returns the dragon head to Midas, but for some reason he does this in George's Kingdom, and then he and Abigail travel to Midas' Kingdom again via the troll road. I mean, I get it, it's not really random so much as easy. The backgrounds are CGI and if they did the sane thing and have George and David go stay in Midas' Kingdom, they would have had to create a new background which isn't easy. But for the purposes of this story...yeah...I know...it's a lot of movement for really no reason. Peace and Happy Reading!


	145. Unexpected Disruptions

The truth of the matter was that he would have loved to send Pirithous off to spy on David that morning. As far as he was concerned until he had confidence that things were going the way he wanted them to, he wanted David monitored closely, just as closely as his brother had been. But with Pirithous getting dangerously close to putting together what was going on and when he saw exactly where David was off to that morning, he was even more glad that he hadn't made him follow.

First thing that morning, David had got up, fetched the horse from the stable hand, and disappeared out into the woods on his own. It was odd for a royal to leave unaccompanied, but he figured George probably figured out where he was going and called the guard off lest they see something they shouldn't, to him that would be more detrimental than someone murdering his False Prince and learning the truth. He was almost jealous of how smart the King acted, for the second he saw David finally arrive later that afternoon, he realized that he should have figured out where he was going too.

He went home. The journey from George's castle back to his home was significantly longer by horse than by magic, but the boy made good time. By afternoon he was standing outside his family farm, hugging his mother. He held his breath as he watched the exchange, wishing he had a mirror to listen to it, wondering if he should go himself and listen. But much to his pleasure, it ended the way it should, the way the Seer predicted. Not long after he arrived, it was clear that the meeting was truly a good-bye. She pressed a ring with a green jewel into his hands and, after a few more tearful words, David mounted his steed and returned to George's castle and James' life in time for dinner.

Then, yesterday evening, just as the sun was getting ready to set, he watched as Abigail and David got into a carriage and began the escorted journey that would take them to the palace. If they rode all night, as it seemed they would, then it would take a couple of days of travel to get to Midas' new castle. He'd watched them well into the early morning hours, shocked when he saw they had decided not to take the quickest route but the scenic route, that would add another day. On the morning of the day they should have arrived his eyes hurt. He felt like he'd done nothing for days but stare into that crystal ball. He'd been waiting, waiting, waiting all the journey for Snow White and David to run into each other. They were, once more going through a forest Snow White was known to haunt. And for one brief moment, he'd thought that Snow White was about to ambush the carriage, but something had frightened her out of her hiding place, and she'd been forced to run. Still…there was hope. It would be another few hours until they arrived at the palace. Thanks to an intercepted invitation he'd summoned to his side, he knew the engagement party wasn't scheduled until that evening. That left plenty of time for a run in and Midas carriage was a tempting treat for dear Snow. It was a situation to monitor for a few days, but Belle…

She was one of the only reasons in the last few days that he'd managed to tear himself away. He hadn't been spending as much time with her as he had before this mess had started, he mostly left her alone after dinner now, in favor of watching this drama play out. But he still ate with her. Usually by breakfast time and dinner time his eyes were sore enough that it was easy to convince himself to take a break and go eat with her. Now was about the time that he always left and went downstairs to move her chair so everything would be ready when it was time for breakfast. And a break would be nice. To be honest, more than a break would be nice. On a day like this, with the sun shining and the heat returning to the mountain slowly, he had no doubt Belle would be in a happy mood when she awoke.

Or rather when she had awoken…she was up already! Early! This early?! Before he'd even had time to move her chair! There she was, standing in the Great Room like always, putting out plates and silverware…but still far earlier than he ever would have expected her.

"Someone is a bit anxious for work this morning!" he announced.

She shrugged and continued her work. "The sun is out. I was excited, I was hoping to read outside today, in the light…" then she let out a disappointed sigh and shook her head. "But it's still too cold."

"Not enough light in the tower?" he questioned, though he felt sympathy for her as she finished her task. She wanted warmth. To him, it was warming up, but it wasn't enough for her to sit out and enjoy her day as he always imagined Baelfire would have. It saddened him for some reason he couldn't really place.

"Certainly not as bright as it is in here…or outside," she beamed, showing him her teeth and that despite the fact she couldn't go, she was still happy. He had mixed emotions about the particular comment that she'd made. Yes, it was rather bright in here, he had adjusted to it as he'd promised, but when he remembered that day, the images in his head, there were days he wondered if the cost of it was worth it.

Before he could let his thoughts wander back, a loud screech made him jump. The chair. He was in his seat and prepared to eat early with her, but her chair was by the fire. He never moved it when she was around, always when she was gone. And since he hadn't, he now found her at its side, attempting to haul the heavy, massive thing from the fireside to the opposite end of the table. He rolled his eyes as he watched her struggle. Why was it that women, especially that woman, never asked for help?

The magic it took to move the thing was barely worth considering. With barely a thought it went from her hands to the end of the table where it belonged.

Belle was confused at first, looking from her hands to the fireside and finally over to her end of the table to find it there. When she did, she turned back to look at him, shock and questioning in her eyes, as if the answer wasn't a simple thing.

"By the time you finish dragging that thing over there, it'll be teatime. And my floor will be scratched," he explained, staring at his food so he wouldn't have to see her smile. How did he know she'd be smiling? How did he know she'd probably be blushing? First on her chest, then her neck, then into her cheeks, that beautiful tone of red that made him want to blush just to match her.

"Thank you," he heard her mutter as she went to her seat.

Suddenly the world stopped. He felt cold. The table, the food, Belle, the fire, all disappeared from his eyes as the Seer threw image after image at him so violently he felt himself shake.

_An image of a city like he'd never seen before…it vanished, disappeared into nothing but woods and coast._

_Snow White, an old woman, finally caught by a flu and dying in a hallowed out log without a friend in the world._

_David and Abigail, ruling side by side with three or four blonde haired children before them and smiles that never quite made it too their eyes._

_A log on the road surrounded by royal carriages, like the image he'd seen earlier only in this one Snow White pounced!_

_A royal pouch. Stolen._

_The same royal pouch, safe in David's hands._

_The green ring collecting dust._

_Regina's Kingdom in chaos._

_Belle's grave, old and whithered bones before him._

_A flash of a blonde haired woman and the face of Killian Jones, Captain Hook, standing side by side._

_"If it doesn't happen…then nothing ever will!"_ the Seer screamed in his ear.

_A vision of a rolling green hill, Hook and the blonde woman were staring at his castle on a sunny morning…it was now._

_"Help them…or it will never come to pass."_

_An image of a man with dark hair, graying on the sides near his ears, a person he'd seen before in the original vision the Seer had given him came to mind, but then disappeared and faded from few. Except now he knew...it was Baelfire._

_And suddenly a darker image came to light of a person in a cloak, holding the Dark One Dagger while he writhed on the ground. His blood was on the dagger, the name was changing as he was dying._

_"Help them now!"_

The Seer had released him from his vision, but her words lingered. On the other side of the table, Belle sat enjoying her meal as she always did, but he felt like he was dissolving. His heart was racing. He felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't even swallow! Apparently, it wasn't only her words that lingered, but the sense of emergency as well. Something had happened, something that shouldn't have happened! Something that threatened his way back to Baelfire…and he knew where he needed to start. Now.

In a flash, he was up and out of his chair.

"Rumple! Rumpelstiltskin?!"

He'd received an image of two people just beyond the border of his property, across the river! One of them was Captain Hook. What had he done now?!

"Wait!"

If he left now, he could intercept them, learn what had happened, and put a stop to it. Anything to get back to Bae! The image of his son as an adult was strong and clear and crisp in his head. So was its fading. He had to stop it!

"Wait, where are you going? What's wrong?!" Belle cried out, following him from the room.

"Nothing to worry about, dearie!" he lied, waving a hand over his shoulder. Though he wasn't sure how he was to convince her of that when he couldn't even convince himself. He had to calm down, he had to breathe, he had to believe! He had to remember that if he worked hard enough, he could get to the bottom of this and set it all straight. But only by being who he was. Not by running off half-cocked, especially not if he was going to face his enemy.

He turned around to face her so fast that she nearly ran right into him. He almost moved to catch her before he remembered his vow not to touch her. He was exceedingly glad when she took a few steps back on her own.

"I have an errand to run," he explained as she stared up at him, looking almost hurt that he'd rushed off away from their breakfast so quickly. It wasn't his choice. If he could have, he would have stayed and enjoyed her company all day long…but this couldn't wait.

"When…when will you be back?" she asked breathlessly.

When would he be back…it was words like that which sometimes made him think she enjoyed his own company just as much as he enjoyed hers. And what a silly thought really, when she had all the books she could ever want and a Great Room that was full of the sun she so craved.

"Later," he answered before casting a glace to the other room. She wanted a day of warm sun, and maybe it was the fact that the thing he'd wanted for so long now hung in the balance, but he wanted her to have it. He moved the couch that she favored up in her library down into the great room, just below the windows where she could receive sun all day. Magnified by the window panes, she'd be plenty warm. But just in case she wasn't he moved his own chair back to the fire for her and sent his dishes away down into the kitchens, leaving her with her own uneaten breakfast. That should be plenty of entertainment for her, at least until he figured out what the hell was going on.

"Enjoy your books," he stated warmly. Then he disappeared and left her alone.

He had a future to restore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are in episode 3x21/3x22. Little note about this that may disappoint some but is probably obvious from this chapter. I know that before Emma and Hook go back in time in season 3 there is, what is now considered to be, an alternative version of events. I'm not going to be publishing that version of events. I did think about it. I did consider publishing that and then when I release season three I could come back and edit everything into place, but here is the thing...it really doesn't matter. In the season 1 version of things, well...Rumple might be watching, but he doesn't really have anything to do with it, so it would be boring. In the season 3 version of things Rumple has a lot to do, but then he takes the potion afterward to make himself forget so...he really doesn't know that he had anything to do with it. Either way, it spits me out at the same place. The only difference is that I'd rather do the version that is now considered "official" if I have a choice than waste time writing a boring chapter then editing later. I mean...really...didn't I wait to publish this fiction so I wouldn't have to do something like that? It just, all around, seems simpler to me to do it this way.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments. I know there's not really much going on in this chapter, it's filler, but it gets the job done. In one chapter we've closed Charmings "David" Story, prepped Rumple for the 3x21/3x22 stuff, and I've given you Rumbellers a nice little special moment. If you need a little more then let's continue on because you're going to be getting some really good Rumbelle stuff from Rumple in the 3x21/3x22 part. I mean, with all that's going through his head now and all he's about to learn, how can we not, right?! Peace and Happy Reading!


	146. A Series of Heart-Stopping Moments

The Blonde Woman and Hook…there they were, just as the Seer had dictated they would be. They stared up at his castle across the water, unaware that he stood behind him. The woman was dressed in a cloak and muttering something or other about the past to her companion. Dressed in black, dark hair, a posture of arrogance he would never forget, Captain Killian Jones was every bit the man he once knew with one difference. Instead of a hand, there now sat a hook; a hook that he recognized as it had once been plunged into his chest by the man wearing it now. Captain Hook. Jefferson had told him ages ago that was what he went by these days, but he had yet to meet him in that manner. The last time he'd seen him he'd had that very hook in his own chest, payback for killing Milah; his wife, but Hook's lover. A sneer curled under his nose. When had that interloper returned to this world? He was certain he would have known when he chose to return from Neverland and seek his revenge, though perhaps that was what this was. He had to say, with a woman at his side, he didn't particularly think that he needed it. Obviously, Milah hadn't been as important to him as he claimed.

"Might be best if I stay back. The Dark One and I have a rather complicated past. I'd wager he want to kill me on sight," the Captain suggested to his companion.

His sneer grew into a smile. "Oh, I'll take that bet!"

The pair turned a for a brief second he saw in the face of his old nemesis fear. It was far different than the ridged anger he'd seen on him last they'd met with Milah's body between them, but he'd take it. He clapped as he let out a laugh that silenced the wildlife and had them all running…as the dear Captain should have.

"I can't tell you how long I've been looking forward to this. Oops. I suppose I just did." He used his magic to reach out and wrap invisible fingers around his neck. Then he tightened his grip. The sounds of choking filled the air, there was perhaps a word or two that he couldn't quite make out as his face turned red and he sputtered about helplessly. His vision clouded red. The vision of his son fading away was far from his mind, the Seer's words disappeared as he held his stance and watched Hook struggle for life. He forgot about the reason he'd left Belle alone in the castle as only one thought replaced it all. Finally, justice.

But Hook's companion didn't see it that way. She cried out, "stop!" and made a step as if to tackle him. Brave girl. But foolish as well. She had magic, powerful deep magic that called out to his own. He ignored it. Her ignorance allowed him to ignore it. All the power she held, and she thought to use brute force?

It took only a small wave of his hand to sweep her off her feet and toss her aside. He was saving her. He didn't know whose wife she was but perhaps with temptation removed she'd return to her family. "I don't know who you are, dearie, but why don't you run off and let me enjoy my killing in peace."

"He's not gonna hurt you," the girl begged as Killian Jones' body shook, desperate for breath. It wouldn't be long now. "You have to listen to me!" the girl pled, getting to her feet and taking long quick strides over to him.

"And why would I listen to you?" he questioned.

"Because if you don't, you'll never see your son again."

He could count on one hand the number of times he'd felt his heart stop, truly stop since becoming the Dark One. Once when he'd lost his son, once when the Seer had given him his power, once when he caught Belle falling from a ladder, once when he'd been sitting at breakfast and had a vision of Baelfire slipping through his fingers, and now...

He glanced at the woman, quickly so as not to take his eyes off the criminal before him. He sensed magic on her. Great magic, that was what had drawn him to her after all. But for someone like her to know about his son, to make a promise like that…

His vision of the future came back to him quickly, the warning that the Seer sent him shrieked in his ears! The Captain was nearly dead, it would only take a couple of seconds to finish the job, but for Baelfire, for any future he might have with him, he was willing to do anything. Had he not proved that yet?

With a small flick of his wrist, he let Killian Jones go, allowed him to fall to his knees gasping for air and turned his attention to the girl; blonde hair that was nearly white and hazel eyes. There was something familiar about her. But at the moment what was most familiar was her mention of one very important person no one alive in this realm should know about…save the brute before him. What had Milah told him? What had he told her? Who else had he told? What had he done?

"What do you know of my son?"

"His name is Baelfire," she whispered feverishly. "You're planning to enact a curse in hopes of reuniting with him."

The first was information the hooked pirate could have told her, that last little bit…there were a very few select individuals in this realm that would know that, but not Hook. He needed to know which had told her. Friend or foe? "Who told you that? What are you? Some kind of witch?"

"No," she answered as Hook got to his feet. "I'm not a witch. I'm the one who breaks the Curse so that you can find him. I'm the product of true love."

Another heart-stopping moment. Two within minutes of each other and yet…something familiar. Blonde hair, hazel eyes...he recalled the images he had of the Swan, those that the Seer had given to him. It was close, but not exact. That was something that could easily be explained away by time and clothing, not so easily explained were her words when paired with the magic practically rolling off of her.

"That's speculation. Part of my plans. But I haven't done it."

"You will, and you will succeed."

"Will". Now that wasn't so much an important word as an important tense. If she was telling the truth and she was the Swan, then…

"If that's true, then that means-"

"We're from the future, mate," Hook stated in such an obvious tone, as if it happened all the time. Maybe it had in their world. But here? Now?!

"But time travel hasn't been done, _mate_!"

"Yeah, well, someone's cracked that code. We need your help."

"Help?" he laughed. They knew enough to come to him for help? Well then, they'd be familiar with the cost! All magic came with a price, especially if they were from the future. "You need my help? Then answer me one question: Do I find my son?"

The girl was a confident one. Her straight posture and immediate answers suggested nothing less than confidence and yet…suddenly she cast her eyes down to the forest floor, she opened her mouth, waggled her chin about as if she was going to say words, but no sound came out.

"Answer me!"

"Yes," she shrieked, jumping at his aggression.

His heart stopped again.

"Bae…" he muttered, feeling suddenly more jubilant than he'd felt in two lifetimes. Oh, it was as if the sun had just come out. It was like he was holding his son again for the first time, seeing his face again. It was as if…as if…

He knew what it felt like. It felt like he knew it would on the day the Curse was finally cast and all his plans, every hope and dream he'd ever had in these last wretched hundred years finally succeeded. "I find Bae." Reassurance from the Swan herself, the very person that was meant to lead him to Baelfire. It couldn't get any better than that. Or could it?

"How? Don't tell me!" he shouted almost as soon as he'd asked the question. He had a future in his head already, he had a plan, he had to think things through. The Swan and much to his displeasure the infamous Captain Hook of Neverland had come into the past, but it was his present. There were different rules with the pair of them than others, and those rules had dangerous consequences if they were broken. This was a kind of magic that didn't exist yet in practice, only in theory. The less he knew, the better. "If I succeeded, I don't want anything in my head that might throw it off," he announced half for himself, half for them. They needed to know what they were capable of every second they stayed here.

"It might already kind of be thrown off," Emma muttered sadly. Her confidence gone, the fear of a child evident in her eyes…it didn't take much to put two and two together.

"You've changed things. What have you done?!"

The Swan looked back over her shoulder at Hook, who looked just ask guilty as she did when she looked back at him. "We interrupted my parents' meeting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, enter the Swan and the return of Captain Hook. For the record, I actually really enjoyed writing this episode, but I hated the way a lot of these scenes had to divide out. Because of the way Rumple acts as a guide instead of actually getting out there to do stuff himself, there are a lot of 3x21/3x22 chapters and they're all either average or shorter than average. It's just the way it works. There were a lot of natural places to cut scenes and I went with it. Sorry about that.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments. So good to hear from you and listen to your response. This is a pretty straight forward chapter, the next is also pretty straight forward, but the next is a lot of reflection on what's happening and I really like that one. Especially since the reflection includes a certain comment Dear Rumple will hear in the next chapter! Peace and Happy Reading!


	147. The Present Future

He was furious. He could have killed her. Them! The union between Prince Charming, David, and the Bandit Snow White was possibly the most important part of this plot. Getting Regina ready, getting his collection in order, stealing the Curse, none of that mattered if Snow and David never met or fell in love because then he wouldn't have the Swan, the Savior, to break his Curse and take him to Baelfire!

Oh, he hoped, hoped with all his might, as he whisked them away to his castle that this was all a mistake. Perhaps the girl wasn't the Swan. Perhaps she was the daughter of some other random couple he'd brought together and simply thought too highly of herself. He had no proof that she belonged to Snow or to David. Blonde hair like that? Not in either family, not as far as he knew. Perhaps it was just a coincidence that she looked like the Swan. And she was with the pirate. This could be a plot. Probably Jones was using the poor girl for revenge! He'd sailed the seas, Ursula could have told him about the Curse if they'd ever come across one another in their travels.

He'd nearly convinced himself it was a lie! Until the visions he'd had sitting at the table came back to him. How could the future change that drastically all at once unless it was so? And then there was the idea of the product of True Love. No one, not Belle or Cora or the Blue Fairy, could have told her that information. A lucky guess? Oh, how he hoped it was.

One thing was abundantly clear, he had to get to the bottom of this. He had to see if she was telling the truth, if they were both telling the truth. If they weren't, he had to protect himself. He'd kill them, happily and without doubt for such a deception. If they were, he had to protect everyone and everything he'd worked for all these years. He needed to set history back on track. And he wasn't going to do it in the forest.

"This way…" he growled, leading them from the foyer into the Great Room. Belle's heartbeat was somewhere upstairs and out of the way. The Great Room was the best choice considering he wasn't about to let Jones into his tower lest he really want something from him. He needed to approach this carefully, to see what they wouldn't reveal to see how much they knew before he could help them. If he could help them. When he'd brought them back to the castle, he'd purposefully lowered the hood on the girl's cloak. She did bear a striking resemblance to the Swan, but so could half a dozen women he could find right now. It proved nothing. Not until they proved beyond a shadow of a doubt they were who they said they were, or rather she was who she said she was.

"Thank you, Mr. Gol-Rumpelstiltskin, for believing us," the girl breathed, accepting his hospitality falsely as help. "I know that time travel is hard to swallow."

"Not as hard as the other mystery you've presented me," he stopped mid-room, noting happily what he already knew. It was set up as he'd left it for Belle, but she wasn't here. Close by, yes, a floor above, perhaps but not here. Saddened as he was that she hadn't taken the day to relax as he'd hoped he was also quite happy about that. He wanted to keep her away from all of this if she could manage it.

"Why haven't I killed him?" he questioned first, pointing at Killian Jones. It seemed a safe question. They were from the future, a future where he would need the Swan desperately to find his son. If the Swan was here now with Hook and the Swan had already confessed that he'd found his son in their time, then one might easily conclude he knew Hook in this other time as well. So, if he'd vowed to kill the pirate, how was it he was still alive?

"If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't for lack of effort," Killian shrugged. "Let's just say we bury the hatchet."

"Yes," he laughed as he pirate looked around. "But why not in your skull?" He wanted details. There wasn't a single scenario in his head where he would allow the wife-stealing slug to live. That on its own was just as suspicious as his interest in the décor! Until he heard all too late what held the pirate's attention.

Footsteps…Belle.

"Oh! Rumpelstiltskin you're…you're back!" she smiled, looking between the pair of them and at him again, a feather duster in her hand. He let himself take a couple of steps back as he considered her intrusion. He wanted her nowhere near any of this, least of all near Jones, not until he had every confidence he knew what the pirate wanted here. "Do you, uh, do you need anything?"

"Belle!" the blonde-haired woman gasped, turning to look at her. He took a gulp of air in an effort to relieve the sudden tension he felt at her appearance and recognition. Belle noticed. The woman seemed shocked to see Belle. Belle seemed shocked that someone had known her name. He was shocked that Belle was a familiar face to the pair of them. Why, he wondered, was he feeling suddenly nervous? If they were who they said they were, then one might deduce that they knew her from the future, but if they were lying and they were from this time and carrying out some plot then Belle might betray them and put herself in danger. That was the last thing he wanted. Why hadn't he suggested she take the day off and read up in the library!

"So…do we know each other?"

He let his breath out at her response. Not a familiar face to her then. There was no danger unless she was in on the plan and just going along with it, and he'd known her long enough by now to know that she was incapable of doing such a task as well as this. Lying was not his maid's forte. That would suggest then that their story was true. They knew Belle from the future, just as they knew him…did that make things better or worse?

"Oh…sorry…no," the girl stuttered awkwardly, suddenly looking down and away as if to hide her face. "Um…Mister…Rumple…The Dark One, um, told me about you."

Oh, that was certainly not the right thing to say to get her to leave the room! He knew that even before he saw her face light up at such a suggestion.

"Did he?" she questioned with a smile in his direction.

"No!" he denied, stepping in between them so he could get rid of her properly and without causing a problem. "Go away and read a book, or whatever it is you like to do," he ordered, shooing his hands at her and opening she'd get the message to leave them be.

He knew she would. She was a smart woman and had learned much in her time here. She knew better than to interrupt his business meetings. At least he hoped she did.

"Come back and clean later."

"You could ask nicely," she pointed out in a teasing manner.

"I could also turn you into a toad!" he remarked. He smiled as he pointed, despite telling himself not to. She gave him a look, one that knew he wasn't serious before she finally turned to leave, and he let out a sigh of relief. One problem handled, back to the bigger one.

"It's a miracle you two fall for each other."

He let out a laugh to cover the choke that had nearly made him break into a cough. The Alleged Swan Girl hadn't just said what he thought she'd said…had she?

"What?!" he questioned, making sure that Belle was well out of the room, checking her heartbeat to be sure she was far enough away that she couldn't hear anymore or stumble upon them again. It was one thing for him to get ideas, it was another thing for her to get crazy thoughts. The way she read books, she would fall in love with a story like what this girl was presenting and if she made an effort to make it come true…she was the last thing he needed right now. "I mean, first you tell me I let the Pirate live. Now you're telling me I fall for the help."

"Yes. She has a strange sense of humor. But let's get back to her parents," Hook interrupted awkwardly, with a false laugh and smile that reminded him of something. Where had he seen a look like that before?

"Yes." Better yet, when it came to the Pirate, why did he care? The girl's parents were the key here; the parents she claimed to have interrupted but hadn't actually proved she belonged to. She hadn't spoken a single name since she'd been here, not even her own. "Who are they?" he questioned, turning to sit down in Belle's seat at the end of the table; hoping, praying that she would give him any answer besides the one he wanted to hear.

"Snow White and Prince Charming."

Damn.

"Prince Charming?" he repeated the name as if he thought it was precious, but in reality, he was trying to keep his temper cool. Up until now, there was only one person to use that name, and it was the Seer. That did not bode well for his future.

"His real name is Prince James."

Was it now?

"King George's son, whose wedding I've just arranged?"

"See, that's what I'm trying to tell you. This marriage isn't supposed to happen because the ring he was going to give her gets stolen by Snow."

The vision he'd seen of the royal pouch with a ring in it. He'd seen Snow White attack the caravan before it had faded and what actually had played out also played in his mind.

Damn it all…she knew everything. She hadn't given any indication that she knew that James was actually David, but that was easily explained away by assuming he never told anyone; like mother like son. Dammit! He'd just seen David go tell his mother good-bye. And he'd just had the thought a few days ago that the power was with the right people that it might be a secret that remained that way for the rest of his life. Perhaps that was what had happened. Still, this was very bad news.

"It's quite a tale you're spinning," he muttered, trying to cover his fear.

They were supposed to meet. She was supposed to steal a ring he was to give to her. A ring...the same damn ring he'd seen Ruth give to David when she'd gone to him. Fuck. It was true. How was he supposed to fix this?

"Here, let me show you. It's in the book," the Swan exclaimed. He watched as Hook made himself busy with the bag that was slung over his shoulder. From within it, he pulled out what appeared to be a thick book, and though the Swan grabbed it from him quickly, he caught a glimpse of the title "Once Upon a Time…" on its cover. From the depths inside his mind, Nimue jumped to attention. He kept a gentle smile on his face as the girl quickly rushed forward to show him the object. She opened it before him to the back of the book where there were nothing but blank pages and-

"Wait. What?" she gasped. At first, he couldn't guess at what had her so distressed, and then, for the first time in well over a hundred years, without the command of the dagger, Nimue started whispering. Suddenly he knew what he was looking at. And suddenly he knew what he wasn't looking at. It was the proof he needed.

"It's all gone. Anything that was supposed to happen after they met has disappeared."

"The Ripple Effect," he announced, feeling glad he was sitting down and was still capable of putting on a show. He felt light-headed as he understood. He understood everything they were saying, and he wished he didn't. He was going to be sick. Worse, if he didn't fix this, if Snow White and David didn't meet, if they never had the girl before him, if Merlin's author never finished the pages of his book, then the Swan's words were true. He'd never see Baelfire again.

No. No, he refused to give into that kind of thinking. He'd come this far, too far to let the little girl that was supposed to be his salvation be his destruction. He had to fix this and quickly. Every day that the Prince and Princess didn't know each other was one day less to conception. It was one more day away from Baelfire.

"Once you change something in the past, anything from that point forward becomes uncertain. The future, as you can see..." he explained, turning a page to one that was fully written out and illustrated, "is a blank page."

 _All our lives are stories Rumpelstiltskin, stories that other realms will tell one day._ The Red Fairy had said that to him in his youth, when she'd first told him about who his mother was and wanted him to move on. Nimue whispered words of an author's pen, and now this…they'd both been telling the truth.

"We need to get Snow to steal that ring, so we can put their story back on track."

"You're in luck," he informed her, feeling glad he'd been watching the journey from George's Kingdom to Midas'. They'd arrived just this morning. George and Midas both wanted the union sealed quickly, and that left them with little time, but just enough opportunity to get things to work again. The Engagement Party. "There's a ball tonight at King Midas' castle. Prince James will be there, and so will his ring."

"So, we just need to get Snow there," the Swan realized.

"How? We don't even know where she is," Jones muttered.

Now that was a problem all too easy to solve, and this was two so long as he had two individuals willing to do the grunt work. They could get the lovers to meet, and he could figure out what to do with them when they were done.

He cleared his throat and drew their attention back to him. "Allow me," he stated before walking over to the table he'd left his crystal ball on. He waved his hand over it, and what greeted them was a soundless image of a cloak he knew belonged to dear Snow White and another pirate in a tavern. Small world.

"There she is," the Swan breathed.

"She's with Black Beard. She's trying to secure passage on his ship."

He hated to admit it, but it seemed that the Pirate's conclusion was an accurate one. Right up until the pirate in the ball stood up and walked away, leaving a shadow of a money bag behind. That was easy enough for him to read: no deal. "And, it appears failing."

"She can't escape the Queen without the money she's supposed to get for the ring," the Swan realized, her eyes going wide as she glanced over at Jones. "Can you help us?" she asked again.

"Help you?" he questioned. He had little choice in the matter if he wanted to see Bae again, but that didn't mean he was going to let them know that. "I can work on getting your portal to the future open again, but getting your parents together? You made that mess, dearie. Only you know what you did. Now go, undo it."

He left the pair of them there to discuss their options. The truth was, he would have loved to help a bit more than just on figuring out the next steps, but he also believed in not overwhelming himself and stepping where he shouldn't. The girl had a story in her head. One that she knew and not he, one that, if she was successful tonight, she and she alone would know forever and for all time for according to the book in front of him, it was being rewritten right now. And he wondered, as he sat down, what did she know? About him? About Hook? About Baelfire? _All our lives are stories Rumpelstiltskin, stories that other realms will tell one day._ If they were from the future, the future where everything worked the way he wanted it to, then that meant that they would be in another realm where their lives were stories. Could it all be that simple? All written down and recorded and open to him if he simply flipped a few pages.

"Thanks for your help!" Emma exclaimed suddenly, returning to the table to scoop the book, and temptation, away from him. His fingers twitched even as she did it, but he had to reluctantly agree that it was probably for the best.

"Swan, we've got to go!"

"We'll be in touch," she cried over her shoulder as Hook hurried her along.

"Journey safely," he called as they practically sprinted out of the room. Once they were gone and he heard the echo of the door, he shivered. Not for what was going on or what had happened, but because of Jones, because of one little word that he'd said that confirmed everything, leaving no doubts in his mind, not that he'd had many by the time all was done.

He'd called her Swan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty straightforward chapter, again. There was just one little thing that I had to fix because...it was stupid. So stupid. In this chapter/scene, for some reason, A&E have Rumple acting all shocked about Snow White and Prince Charming getting together, despite the fact that in chronologically past episodes he's shown that he already knows it. Furthermore, at the end of this episode, he takes his memories away, and in episodes that come chronologically later he's shown that he also knows they're going to end up together. So why all of a sudden they write him as being completely clueless was just stupid. I went with the idea that he's testing Emma out of disbelief and hope that the situation isn't as bad as he thinks it is. After a while it does start to seem like he's interrogating her. And there is some info she has that he does not understand and now never will, so...I'm hoping it works; the before, the present, the after.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. As always, they're very much appreciated. I hope you'll like this chapter. There was a lot to put together in it, a lot of emotions to go through, even some hints to drop...but I hope it all comes together smoothly. Up next is a lot of discovery and reflection, but I actually really like the next chapter, even if it is slow. There's some good Rumbelle stuff coming up in it, trust me! So, without further ado, let's move on. Peace and Happy Reading!


	148. A Busy Mind

The Swan was here. She'd been in his castle years before she was ever supposed to be born! He'd spoken to her, and she'd given him the most wonderful news. He was going to see Baelfire again. The image of the man with graying black hair came to him. He'd seen him before with the original vision the Seer had given him, but he hadn't known in that moment that it was his son. Then, he'd just been a mysterious man from the future. Now…he found himself closing his eyes to relish that sight. He looked good. He had his mother's dark hair, but his eyes and even a bit of his coloring all belonged to him; his father. He was a rich tan color, as he'd once been when he'd lived in the sun as a boy. He wondered, did he work in the sun a lot? Was that why he tanned as he had? He didn't appear overly strong or weak, average perhaps. He slouched. His shoulders were hunched forward like he always was when he sat him at the spinning wheel as a boy. He didn't smile, he didn't hardly move at all in his vision, just looked at him with his head tilted down from under dark lashes. A look of distrust and uncertainty on his face…until the inevitable happened.

He replayed the image he'd seen in his head over and over again and each time he rejoiced when he saw Bae, but wanted to scream at the top of his lungs when he faded from view. He hated that, but at the same time, he knew it was necessary in order to push him. He had to fix that. Or else that image he had was all he was ever going to know of his son.

In his tower, he pulled free every single book he'd ever had on the theoretical idea of time portals. There were a lot of theories for it, but no successes and the Swan, in addition to not sharing her first name, had also left out exactly how the portal was made. Which one was right and had brought them here versus which ones were wrong…he hadn't a clue. He was hoping that once he started looking then one of the theories might stick out to him and compel him forward. But none did.

In the end, one book used the suggestion of a powerful bit of magic that he happened to have acquired once a long time ago that gave him an idea. There was a wand, one known for recreating magic; long and slender, curved like a spiral, with silver wiring at its base. He'd shivered as he read it, for when he'd acquired it originally, along with several other fairy wands, he'd been able to sense it was different. Perhaps that was why he'd shoved it into a drawer, placing it in its own box, far away from the others. The books he'd originally read when he'd done the research on it believed it was made by a strong wizard, maybe even Merlin, but he'd always known it wasn't. He knew the flavor of Merlin's magic from Nimue and it wasn't what was on that wand. Long ago when he'd first stumbled upon the wand, he hadn't a clue who's magic it belonged to, now that he'd come face to face with that magic, he knew exactly who's wand it was.

The Black Fairy; his mother.

All this time and he'd never guessed; all this time and it had taken him this long to put it together. Proof the world could always surprise him!

His mother's wand had the ability to recreate magic, and that spoke volumes as to why it wasn't written in any of the books he'd ever read about fairies. Useless, all of them. Almost as useless as books on the Black Fairy herself. That was why he'd started burning them after his encounter with her. They never held the truth to who she really was.

But, if the wand got all this sorted, if it could reopen the time portal the Swan had fallen out of and solve this mess they'd created, then it was worth it to use it.

Although, the time portal wasn't really the problem. He had the wand now, he could give it to the Swan have her activate her magic, and send the pair of them back. But if the relationship between Snow and David wasn't off on the right foot before they left then it never would be, and they'd return to nowhere.

He was starting to realize why he'd never dabbled in something as foolish as time travel to get his son back. It was so much easier to go forward and simply face life than it was to go back and keep everything else intact.

Of course, he was really only half paying attention as he studied. He kept one eye on his books and the other on the Swan and Hook with the help of his crystal ball. Not that there was really much to watch. By nightfall, the pair had arrived at a tavern, the same one that they'd seen Snow in. Much to his shock, he saw Hook, the present Hook, sitting with his crew at a table. So much for the idea that he'd know when a portal opened and the pirate returned. He seemed comfortable enough in this land to suggest he'd been back a while. He fought the urge to rush off and kill him for the second time today. He had, after all, just seen the future Hook working with the Swan. If he killed him now, then it was possible Jones would disappear, with no one to help the Savior he might have to do it. And besides…it could compromise Baelfire. He hated it, but it did appear that until whatever day this was in the future that came to pass, the pirate had a free pass from him.

Pity.

He caught onto their idea when the pair separated easily enough. The Swan got up from her seat, shed her cloak, lowered her bodice and stomped over to the present Killian Jones all the while he watched the future one slip out the door. Her cleavage practically in his face, the Captain had stopped what he was doing at once to flirt with her, as most pirates would. That was when he realized the trick wasn't to watch her. It was to watch Hook.

Hook climbed aboard his own vessel, spoke with Smee, still alive and looking young after all these years, and went into the Captain's Quarters. A few moments later, he was joined by Snow White where he promptly realized what their plan was. There were mirrors and shiny objects everywhere he could have used to look in on them through his own mirror and listen to it play out, but he didn't need sound to know what was happening. They intended to promise Snow White a ticket out of the port if she could steal the ring. It was simple and obvious, a plan he himself might have concocted given the situation, loathed as he was to admit that, but as it was…it wasn't his own situation. They had their problem to fix, and he had his problems to fix.

Problems.

Not problem.

Because he knew what they didn't and he knew that the time portal was not his only challenge…so was forgetting all this.

Knowledge of the future was a dangerous thing to have. He knew because he had it, and after a hundred years of having it, he'd come to the conclusion that he never knew all of it at once because it was a dangerous thing to toy with. It wasn't meant to be dictated. It wasn't meant to be foretold. He now knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was going to get to his Baelfire. But he also knew that the hope that he would get there, prior to meeting the Swan in the flesh was the one thing that drove him each and every day to keep going.

He couldn't afford to get lazy.

He couldn't afford not to have hope.

The knowledge was delightful, but the hope was what was going to get him there, not reassuring knowledge.

It left him only one option. Memory Potion. He had to not know. He had to give up the image of his son in his head, and return to hope. There was one problem, even if they succeeded tomorrow, he didn't have enough Memory Potion to forget through this morning which meant he'd have to brew more…but it would be necessary.

He was reluctant to forget all this. Knowledge wasn't just dangerous, it was also power, but in this case, it was power he wouldn't need until after he had his son back. He'd seen the Swan, he'd read books on time portals before, the causes and the effects, and he knew what all this meant. The Swan had been produced by a time in which he had no assurance of the future and in that timeline things had gone on as they should have and he got Baelfire back. He couldn't risk doing anything differently than he had in that timeline…even if her presence here meant that was a story that no longer existed. And besides the fact, he couldn't risk doing anything different in regards to anything else and that included…

It was a miracle they'd fallen for each other.

He didn't want to hear those words, but he had, and now he couldn't get them out of his head. A miracle that he and Belle had fallen for one another. Fallen in love? Impossible!

Except for the fact that it didn't feel that way anymore. Even as he thought of it now, his heart was hammering all over again, nearly as bad as when he'd stood behind her at that mirror. All over again the images that he'd seen the day she'd fallen off the ladder came back to him. He could see them now so clearly! Touching her, holding her, fighting with her, sharing a bed with her…maybe sharing a baby with her?!

It could have been fantasy, just like he'd initially dismissed it as. Or...

It could have been the Seer all along, a vision of a life to come that was well-lived, well-loved if some of those images were accurate.

Well loved…was that what he felt for her? Love? Was he even capable of falling in love? Especially with a woman like her. She was so smart and beautiful, and kind and gentle. She was special. And he was so...

"Rumpelstiltskin?"

At first, he thought that it was his imagination, that he just liked hearing his name from her mouth so much that he was just allowing himself to recall it. But then he saw her blue dress in the dark light and realized she was really there, with a tray in her hand. He had the sudden urge to get up and help her with it. Would he have had that thought if the Swan hadn't come?

"You didn't come down tonight."

"Too busy," he muttered, staring at her as he recalled his vision of her in white. Why did he feel like he was seeing her for the first time?

"I'll just…set it here then. I'll get the dishes later," she commented, setting his dinner on his table.

"I'll see to them myself," he added. It was the strangest thing. Just as much as he wanted her to sit opposite him and do something simple, like read, he wanted her gone. He didn't want to want what he wanted. He wanted his own thoughts to make sense again!

"I'll come back for them in the morning," she insisted stubbornly. "Is there anything I can get you before then?"

"You can leave," he snapped cruelly. He was certain that just this morning it was something he would have ordered and not thought twice about it. And yet now hated the way he sounded. He wanted to make it up to her. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to do a lot more than that with her.

"If you say so," she smirked, looking as though she didn't believe him as she descended the stairs and left him feeling like he could breathe again. He couldn't blame her, to be honest, he wasn't sure he believed it himself. Fall in love with a perfect woman like her? He would be lucky enough to have the most perfect woman in the world fall in love with him?

Ah, but this was where his dilemma was born, it was what he'd been struggling with since the Seer put those images into his head. Love was weakness. It was dangerous. Especially for her, given these circumstances. Because if he fell for her, if it was love, true love, then he had no need of Regina. If it was love and he grew to cherish her as much as he feared he could, then all it would take was a single good strong yank to rip her heart from her chest, and he could cast his Curse himself. There would be no need to prepare Regina for it, no need to wait, and there would be no need to continue to stay so involved in everyone else's fucking lives! He could do it and go see Baelfire; to hell with what the Swan implied!

Or he couldn't.

He wouldn't.

It was going to take a special kind of anger for Regina to tear her own father's heart from his chest, to kill him. If he came to love Belle, he wasn't sure he could manage that kind of anger with her. Which meant there would come a time he'd have to choose a life with her or a life with his son, and he had no interest in pursuing that choice. Frankly, from where he sat now, the thought of doing that to her was…it was unthinkable already! Was it possible he was farther gone than he thought?

With this knowledge he had now, he could change it. He could dismiss her, free her, send her so far away that he never had to worry about seeing her again, never worry about those images coming true, never worry that he'd have to make such a choice.

Or he could drink the potion. He could forget what the Swan had said. He could go back to the time that he'd pretended those images were nothing but his own invention, fantasies…and risk it coming true without a warning. He had to make a choice and he didn't want to. He needed a loophole. There had to be some kind of a loophole! Some way to remember without remembering, to warn himself!

He sighed as he got up out of his seat, intending to use his crystal ball to check back in on the Savior and Hook. Open the portal, make a potion to forget this, correct their timeline…find a loophole. He'd add it to his long and growing list of things "to do".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter. So, yeah, like I warned you, this chapter is more reflective. It is a filler chapter by definition. Not only was there a lot that had to happen between the time that CS left Rumple in his castle to the moment that they saw each other again outside Midas' castle, but there was also a plan that Rumple needed to concoct, discoveries that had to be made about the Black Fairy's wand, and of course he had a lot of thoughts that needed to be processed. Considering the last chapter and the next chapter, I stuck all of this into this chapter and found that it flowed together really well! Yes, it's filler chapter, but it's one of my favorite filler chapters, because of all the dots that he connects and what he thinks about it all.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments! I know it's filler, but I'm really curious about what you think about this chapter given its content. Slow and quiet, yes. But decent? Was it worth the chapter? Was it enough Rumbelle for you? Can't wait to hear it all! Peace and Happy Reading!


	149. If You Want Something Done Right

He got up to eat dinner for the sole purpose of no longer thinking about Belle. He needed to check back in on Hook and the Swan if only because there was no point in using the memory potion if they weren't successful. Of course, as far as he was concerned, there was no such thing as "not successful". With everything at stake, they had to be successful. They had to fix this. They had to make sure the future was as it was supposed to be. And-

He could have screamed. Because the second he stood up and summoned his image of the future, the image of Belle rolling over in his bed invaded and for one brief second wondered if it wouldn't be worth it to let them fail, to live here with her all the rest of their days. And that kind of thinking was precisely why he needed to make a memory potion and find a way to remember to send Belle elsewhere.

Nothing was worth not getting his son back. Not even her.

He moved back to his crystal ball and his books, then grabbed his plate and began shoveling dinner into his mouth as he used his magic to see what he needed to see.

There were fireworks over King Midas new castle. The party was tonight so that was expected. Innocently acquiring that invitation for the engagement ball felt like a lifetime ago by now. But there was dear Snow, approaching the castle, cloak thrown over her as if it would protect her from being seen. More than likely, it was her deftness that would save her. She was getting ready to go up and over the wall to locate the ring. But where was his Savior?

He rolled his eyes and set his plate down angrily as the scene changed.

They were in the forest! Sitting on some log so far away they had to use a pirate's telescope to see the castle. They were chatting amicably, about what he couldn't possibly fathom! Idiots! Amateurs! While everything else was ready to play out before them they were just content to sit at a distance and trust people?! Have...what...faith?! Savior she may one day be, but cunning...she obviously never would fit that bill!

Amateurs! Bloody fucking amateurs! Both of them! Didn't they know? When toying with intricate lines of a person's life, it was better to leave nothing to chance?! This was too important not to watch it closely! And it was simple! So simple! The girl had magic. He could feel it, unique and strong, and boiling to be free just below her skin! Why she wasn't using it was beyond him! This was a simple thing. A change of clothes would make them both servants and practically forgettable if they ran into either David or Snow. Another simple transportation spell would get them inside!

Did he have to hold their hands?!

"I don't like leaving things to chance."

"You know, I feel the same way!" he commented, alerting the pair to his sudden presence. When he appeared before them, they were sitting right where they'd been in his crystal ball. Her comment would suggest that she had wanted to get a closer look, and yet here they were, not making a single move. He had things to do! Delicate matters to plan and plot, decisions to make, and now, he had to orchestrate what they said they would do. Apparently, the answer to his question was "yes"; he did have to do everything. But he could do better than simple.

"Which is why I never do." He used his magic to summon into his hand a piece of paper, a very important piece of paper. It was the invitation to the Engagement Ball he'd intercepted just that morning. "See? An invitation to the ball."

"So, you'll be inside to watch out for her?!" the Swan inquired eagerly.

"No. No. I'll be far too busy sorting out how to get you home."

"Well, who's the invitation for?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" No. No, it wasn't. Not if the looks they exchanged meant anything. They really were amateurs. "The two of you."

"So, when we're done inside, you can open our portal?"

He smiled in an attempt to hide a wince. He hated to use The Black Fairy's magic, but what was the point of having her wand if he let himself be frightened of it. He would conquer his own past by sending them back to the future. "There's a powerful wand which, uh…I came to possess," he stated, purposefully skipping over how and insinuating far more than the true story ever would. "Anyway, legend says, it can recreate any magic that's ever been wielded. Now, with a little work, I can use it to recreate whatever portal brought you here," he admitted.

Hook took the invitation from his hands.

"Please do it quickly. We'll be in and out before you know it. I want to get the hell out of here," the Swan muttered with tired desperation. How ironic, the knowledge she'd given him, that kind of desperation was exactly like what he felt she'd stolen from him.

"Uh, confidence. I like it," he smiled. She smiled back at him before the pair turned to go. "Wait!" he cried, calling them back one more time with looks of confusion. They were about to take a royal invitation and go into a royal ball…dressed like peasants. Heaven help him; he really did have to do everything! "Not like that," he commented, before picturing something far different in his head, clothing that would get them passed guards and under the noses of rich spoiled snobs, while also protecting who she would be. It was her smile. When she'd smiled at him, he'd recalled another vision he'd once had of the girl, and he knew, without a doubt, she truly was the Swan. He didn't want her mother getting a glimpse of her and putting it together someday as well, lest this happen all over again. They may have been amateurs, but he certainly wasn't. In a matter of seconds, red smoke enveloped them both; a spell for new clothes, one that sent their old garments away, and a glamour to keep them from being recognized. He should have done this to begin with, rather than trusting the pair of them. Admittedly, by placing it on her himself, it would take away her ability to do magic, but then she didn't appear to be using it anyway. "The Savior can't come this far and not play princess for a day."

He was pleased, but the Swan stood there awkwardly with her arms out, looking terrified of what had happened. Odd. She was the Savior, supposed to have magic, and, in fact, he could feel her unique magic coursing through her. Why did she act like she'd never welded it in her life?

"But, I'm not supposed to stick out. What if someone remembers me in the future?"

"Because what you had before was such an intricate disguise?" he asked sarcastically. "Now, speaking of which I've returned those stole rags. Luckily, before they were missed. I mean, it's a miracle the timeline hasn't imploded already. Amateurs. Allow me." From his tower, he summoned a mirror to show them both what he'd already done. "A glamour spell. This is how you shall appear to one and all. Now, run along and do everything you can to make sure Snow White gets that ring. Once they're back on track, everything else will be, too. Return to my castle once you've finished. And I'll send you home properly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, sweet, not a whole lot needs to be said about it.
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments RolfB and Jenigweve. I really appreciated that and I was so happy to hear that you enjoyed the chapter even if it was a little bit slower. It was a fun one to write out especially with his knowledge of Belle and the fact that he's starting to acknowledge there might be something there! Peace and Happy Reading!


	150. How the New Story Begins

Trouble, trouble, trouble. He hoped that all this trouble wasn't an indication of life once the Savior finally came into his own; naturally, not by some fluke of magic.

He'd given them a simple task; one simple task. Go into the castle, dance the night away, be sure that Snow White stole the ring, that David knew it was her, and the timeline was back on track. How they'd managed to screw it up as immensely as they had was remarkable. And yet-not.

Not when he remembered that he'd trusted Hook to it all. He'd watched the entire thing, sometimes in sound through one of the mirrors and other times within his crystal ball, and sometimes he'd needed to use the cauldron as well! But he still couldn't figure out how they'd gotten it so wrong and yet…so right. Or at least close to right. Probably because the parts that were right they'd barely had a hand in.

The pair went to the ball, just as they were supposed to. They danced, they watched Prince Charming, and all the while he'd watched Snow White climb the walls of the towers in his cauldron at the same time.

She'd found the ring, stolen it just in time for the False Prince to enter his chambers and find her stealing it. They'd had a brief interaction in which he'd seen her face, and he was certain that was all there was too it. He'd almost thought to stop watching and summon the pair to him right then and there…until Abigail had entered the chamber and began crying out. Regina, who attended the ball appropriately enough, had gotten word, so had Hook and the Swan who stupidly rushed off to help the Princess that he was certain didn't need help. She'd been well on her way to escape when the pair had intervened unnecessarily. The Savior had been captured. But not before she realized that in the chaos of the heist, Snow White had dropped the ring.

He could have cried out in anger and beat his head against a wall because he knew that he could have done a better job in half the time and not ended up in Regina's dungeon. For a moment he did consider helping the Savior, but something told him it was best to let the girl go, to not intervene, and let her save herself. His mother's wand was powerful, very powerful indeed. While he was waiting for something to happen over the next day or so he'd done some more researching on his mother's wand, making sure that he could use it to get the pair back to their own time. After all, they'd caused enough trouble, as soon as this was over, it was best for everyone involved if they got back to where they belonged. But in his investigation, he'd stumbled upon something that he hadn't planned on. According to legend, it could recreate magic, but only magic that had been used by the welder. He'd never traveled back in time before; he'd never experienced the portal that the Swan and the Captain had, ergo, he could not open the portal to get them home. But they could.

Or rather, she could.

She was strong enough, he could sense that easily enough, and all his digging into the magic on True Love told him that if she was who she said she was, then she would have all the magic required to open the portal that had brought her here and get herself and the pirate back to where they belonged. There was only one problem, he hadn't seen her do a single bit of magic since she'd been in the Enchanted Forest. In fact, she seemed downright put off by any situation that involved it. Magical, but refusing to use it? Or incapable?

He had the thought that being in such a precarious position with Regina might help him answer that. True, his glamour spell would have taken away her magic, but if she was the Savior, the Product of True Love, then her magic was a unique thing. There might not be anything that could stop it. Regina wasn't one to fool with these days. For helping Snow White escape, the Evil Queen wouldn't care if she did claim she was a princess, she'd be executed. And if she had read that book that she'd claimed once held the past she would be well aware of that. He'd hoped that would push the Swan to do what she could with her power. He'd been wrong. He watched throughout the night as she shared a morsel with another prisoner, then settled against a cell wall, twirling and twirling and twirling the ring that should have been with Snow White by now, around her finger, staring into nothing. She'd been removed from her fine clothes, put back into a thin peasant's dress and blue cloak that didn't appear to hold in heat. But the Savior wasn't where the story was. That was back in Midas' land.

Unaware of the weight of what had happened, he watched as David spent the night out, tracking and plotting in the unfamiliar forest, searching for something in a way he might search for a lost sheep. And the pirate was always there, one step behind him, watching safely in the distance, out of the way. And one step ahead of David…the Princess Snow White.

It was a shame she hadn't gotten away with his ring, for it appeared he had caught a bug for the woman. If she hadn't dropped the ring on the way out, this meeting would have been all they needed, and he could have summoned the Savior and Hook back to leave. Instead, he watched as David tracked Snow White down, one step behind until he suddenly veered off track and set up a trap in the woods so obvious he was certain that she'd never fall for it…until she stepped right inside of it. And that was the moment Hook chose to reveal himself.

He cursed himself for not sending Pirithous out, in fact, he cursed himself for it all day as the trio exchanged words, Snow White fell to the ground with a slice of David's sword, and Hook bought two horses and a cart with money that was once the Prince James'. The trio traveled together all day into the Queen's territory, and he could see David and Snow talking. Oh, how he longed to summon Pirithous and find out why! But after watching David before the bird was already suspicious. He didn't need him asking more questions, he didn't need to make more memory potion for him as well, and he didn't need for him to know so much of David's life or anything of the future.

Once they arrived and the castle was in their sights but still far enough away to be outside the guard of the Evil Queen, Snow left the pair, and David and Hook sat in the woods together, talking and making a fire. He didn't need Pirithous to know what was being said. In a way, he didn't need to know. Wanted to know, certainly, but need? All he needed was to see the Swan freed, he needed her to use her magic, and get back to this place so he could get them home and take a memory potion.

But that night, so many things happened all at once; it was difficult to keep track of them. Snow fetched Red. Red went to find Hook and David in the woods. She transformed into a wolf to help them get past Regina's guard and into the castle. Their plan seemed simple enough to follow visually only. The wolf would appear. The guard would become distracted, fearing for his safety in her presence. And that was when David would appear and knock the guard off his feet into unconsciousness before the alarm could be raised.

He supposed their plan was to go all the way in and rescue the Swan, but it would never come to pass. There was no need. The Swan was busy rescuing herself, much to his displeasure, without magic. It would have taken a witch or wizard five seconds to break free of the lock that Regina had placed on the door. It had taken her an entire day, but only because it had taken her so long to figure out she could use some spare bit of wire to pick the lock. And much to his disappointment, she brought a friend. One that he recognized.

'Twas Maid Marian. Robin Hood's wife, who he had last seen very, heavily pregnant. Apparently, she'd had the baby, and counting the months from the time he'd last seen her, she'd soon after become prisoner of none other than Regina. It almost made him laugh. He couldn't wait for Regina to explain that to the man that the Seer called "her heart" in the future. But that was a laugh for another time, once the present was sorted out and the future back on track. For now, he continued his vigil.

By the time the two groups ran into one another, his head was already spinning. When he finally found Snow White, he thought he was going to be sick. She had sent Red back to the boys for a reason, for as they made their great escape, she was sneaking into the castle, walking halls she hadn't graced in years not since her father died. There was a confrontation, one in which the Princess attempted to use unmistakable Black Fairy dust against his pupil. Regina's magic prevailed where the princesses didn't. Between the cauldron and the mirror, he watched as Snow was led away to her execution. A pyre was built.

He summoned his magic as she was led to the pike and tied to it, preparing to fix this, to summon the Princess away should it be necessary. The Prince and the Princess had met, if he saved her, then it might be enough for them to meet again. There didn't need to be a ring involved. But just as Regina threw a fireball at her feet, which exploded, he watched as the girl opened her hands and an unmistakable shimmer interrupted the fire for a brief second. A moment later, he saw a spark that had nothing to do with the fire pitch itself out of the flames. More black fairy dust. She'd saved herself by becoming a bug and then flown away.

There was still hope. He had a cure for Black Fairy dust around somewhere if she needed it. He could arrange for it to be used easily enough. As the rescuers, still shocked from thinking they'd just witnessed their mother, friend, and would be True Love perish in flame, left the building with the help of Hook and Marian, he prepared to be summoned. He prepared to take the cure and bring it to them and hunt her down himself to set it all right. But again, the need was not necessary. He tracked Snow White, just as he tracked the others back out into the forest where they made a fire and sat down to mourn, some of them unaware what they were really upset for. It was when the other three left the fire to unload something or other from the cart they'd ridden in on, and Hook and the Swan were alone, that it happened. They put it together before she found them, the look on the Savior's face just before she crept up on them told him that. But eventually, a ladybug rested upon her shoulder. In the next second, the other three had joined them. David was the next one to put it together, to cradle the precious bug in his hands, all before a familiar blue light came upon them. He would never be ecstatic to see the Blue Fairy, but leave it to a Blue Bug to make a red one human again.

As the unknowing family and new friends hunkered down for the night, he collapsed into a chair himself. Watching, leaving a job that should have been his to someone else was more than stressful. He'd barely moved all day, but he felt like he'd lived through it all right there with them. It wasn't nearly as simple as he would have done it, but it was done. David and Snow had met. He crossed his fingers that it was enough to set things straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is not more exciting. It's my least favorite of the 3x21/3x22 chapters. But I couldn't avoid it. If you watch these two episodes from Rumple's perspective, you'll find that there's no choice but to have a chapter like this that completes the circle. That makes it a very necessary filler chapter. If I don't have a chapter like this in here, it's as if Rumple just looks away and says "well, the entire future of seeing my son is at stake, but I guess I'll trust my mortal enemy to fix it and just spend my time knitting as I stare at Belle." Not really Rumple at all. I had to have him watch the bulk of this play out.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Again, I am sorry for this pitiful chapter, but it just had to be here. I had meant for it to be only a couple of paragraphs but there was just too much happening to do that, so here it is. Trust me, though, the chapters that follow will be better and make up for it. Peace and Happy Reading!


	151. Facing Forward

He stopped watching the group after they all settled in around the campfire for the night. He had a headache and his eyes were sore, but still, his work wasn't done. He had a conundrum to solve. The Swan still hadn't used magic. That was a problem for him. A big one. He'd hoped that somewhere along this journey of hers she might get desperate enough to use it. There had been plenty of desperate situations, but she hadn't used her magic in any of them. Now that the true danger had passed, he doubted she would. He had some thinking to do on that, on how to force her to reveal it, otherwise the pair were never going to get back to where they'd come from, and he'd have to do something very unpleasant to keep the pair out of trouble.

In the morning, before those around the campsite woke up, he let them be as they were and went to have breakfast with Belle. Then, after they were done eating, he did something he'd never allowed himself to do before. He allowed himself to stay with her. He moved her chair to the fireplace for her when she went down to finish their dishes, and then he gathered his work from the tower and began to fashion the memory potion right there. He even used his crystal ball in her presence to keep watch over the crew at the campfire who were finally waking up and beginning preparations for whatever came next. Perhaps intrigued by his sudden change, she stayed. Sitting in her chair, she read her book throughout much of the morning. He was pleased with that reaction; he had been hoping that would have been her response, otherwise there was no sense in being here.

In anticipation of all this coming to an end and the memory potion would work, he was feeling optimistic and...indulgent. If he was to forget all of this, then what was the harm in basking in her presence for a few hours and allowing himself to feel...whatever it was that he was feeling. What he felt...it was the closest to contentment that he'd been in centuries. She was perfect. They were perfect, everything inside of this space and time was ideal. He worked, she read. She didn't ask questions or sneak glimpses of things she shouldn't. She didn't even ask why he was working there, she just accepted it when he made up an excuse about a potion gone wrong and the tower smelling. They had the ability to be quite the pair when they were together. So for once in his life, he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling he got whenever she glanced his way. He wanted to allow his mind to wander, to ponder the things he'd seen before he forgot them.

_A vision of her in white…_

Was it possible? Would that come to mean in that world what it did in this one? Was it foolish to hope it did? Even if he had no intention of allowing it? It was nice to hope. It was nice to glance over at her when her nose was half buried in her book and think the word "wife", just to see what it felt like. It was nice to imagine a future where they might share a home or even a room and be perfectly content with one another as they were now. It was nice to imagine…but no more than that.

Just before lunchtime, the vision struck him. It stole his breath and had him force his hands down on the table just to steady himself. He'd had this vision before, only once before, but it was long ago when he hadn't known the players or been able to put names to faces. Now he saw it again, with all his wisdom, it seemed different even though it was the same.

 _"First born of Princess Cora to cast the curse to end all curses,"_ the Seer's voice whispered inside his head.

_Eva, cradling baby Snow in her arms. Snow White, grown but not of this world, rather the one they were going to, her hair cut short. The name Neal. A face hidden beneath a gray hood. A dock upon which the Savior, the one he'd come to know, stood. The book he'd once given to Cora, the one with his name on it. A family gathered around a table, a family that included Regina, Snow, David, a young boy, Captain Hook, and the Swan._

_"A twin will become the false prince…"_

_He saw his own face in a mirror, unscarred by the curse he possessed. The name Gideon. A baby in his arms, the same child he'd seen in Belle's arms in the vision when she'd fallen._

_A sunset. A golden-haired boy he couldn't identify yet._

_"Storybrooke, Maine, United States of America."_

_A globe of land masses still unrecognizable._

_An imagine of Captain Hook beside the Swan._

_A checkered dress._

_"Snow White and Prince Charming shall bear the Savior who will return to break the curse on her twenty-eighth birthday."_

_An image of Snow White and David as he knew them now._

_"I love you." The voice unmistakeably Belle's._

_Roses and a crystal necklace that hung from her beautiful neck and sat perfectly upon her chest._

_"And I love you." His own voice returning her affections. Before the image of Neverland floated into his mind._

_"A precious debt from a woman of ash will find the boy of fire…"_

_A woman in rags with golden hair that he knew he hadn't met yet._

_Six wands lined up on a shelf in perfect order._

_A pink house._

_The perfect form of Belle beside him in the bed._

_His mother laughing melodically._

_"The final battle between good and evil will begin…"_

He knew what it meant when he saw it. When everything returned to normal, he knew exactly what it meant. And he didn't know if he wanted to weep with joy or dread for what he was about to do to change such a wonderful and bright future.

"Are you alright?" Belle asked from her position by the fire. He felt his chest swell at her concern. He'd leaned forward, gripped the table, and gone still during the vision. She was worried. He worried her. The vision of Belle in white flashed briefly in his head of it's own accord and he saw just how quickly, how primed and ready what this was between them was to become that. It was dangerous.

"Fine, fine," he dismissed quickly, looking up only when the words hurt his heart and he couldn't avoid looking at her. He knew what he had to do, what he still had to do to create a perfect loophole that they could both slip free from. This loophole was for her. To risk her life just to experience what he had in that vision…he couldn't do it. "I'm fine. I…I have business arriving soon."

"I assume you'll want to work here?" she questioned, the implication innocent and obvious. She assumed he wanted her to leave. Never could such words be more right and wrong at the same time.

"It'll be necessary," he managed to choke out.

She nodded and rose from her seat, taking her book with her. "I have work to do anyway," she smiled.

He had to bite his tongue to keep from calling out after her. He had to press his fingers into a table or else he might have run out after her and what he would have done then...he couldn't trust himself to find out. But he managed to keep quiet and calm, staying there at the table while she gracefully exited. He even let himself smile when he saw her look back on him. "Let himself smile"...as if it was something he could have helped when he'd had no control over the behavior.

He wasn't in love. But he could see how all too easily it could grow if he allowed things to continue as they were. And after watching and waiting all night long, he had a plan. He knew his loophole. And with the potion nearly completed, he was nearly ready to enact it.

With a breath and a burst of magic, he summoned the image of the Swan and Hook back to him through the crystal ball. The vision he'd experienced meant that things were right again. It was clear enough to him, even if it wasn't yet to them. He watched as Snow and David went their separate ways along a path, she back into the woods and he back to the castle. The Swan and Hook watched an exchange from the bushes, allowing it to happen while a happy tear rolled down her eye. The pages of the storybook filled in again, and it was time. Back at the campsite, he watched as Hook picked something up and threw it over his shoulder, the pair of them heading for the cart David had bought them yesterday. But they were in Regina's land now. It would take them weeks to get to him through that method, and they'd caused enough trouble in the short time they'd been here. He didn't want to wait any longer.

With a snap of his fingers, he summoned them to him in his castle and darkened the crystal ball before sending it back to the tower.

"Swan…did you-"

"No…we just-"

"In here, dearies!" he called out, drawing their attention from where they were in the foyer. A moment later, he heard hurried footsteps.

"We did it!" the Swan explained, pushing her way through the doors. Obviously. Otherwise, he wouldn't have summoned them back. But since she was being so forthcoming, and he wouldn't remember this anyway.

"Your parents are together?" he questioned, adding another ingredient.

"They're right back on track. We're ready to go."

"I see," he muttered before glancing over at the body that was hung over Hook's shoulder. Maid Marian, she should have been executed right around the time Snow White supposedly was. Instead, she hung limply across his back, and it was…surprising. There was magic rolling off the girl that he had never sensed before. Albeit, he'd never paid much attention to her, she'd never given him reason to. Perhaps that magic would make the future a bit more interesting. He could live with that. "And you brought some luggage."

He knew what they were doing, what they were plotting, and he hadn't a problem with it. This was how Robin Hood lost his wife, removing her from their timeline would certainly mean she'd be missing for a long time, perhaps long enough for Regina and Robin to have their own little fling all before she reappeared again wherever they were going and oh! He couldn't wait to watch that unfold!

"Long story," Emma breathed. "So, how's the portal coming? Can you open it?"

He paused for a moment, purposefully building tension in order to build up hope and then destroy it. Nothing was more effective to tap into magical power than desperation.

"I cannot," he answered, watching the girl's face fall.

"Then what are you working on?" she snapped.

"Oh, this is for me. A forgetting potion," he explained cleverly, trying to get a rise out of her just to see if she could do magic. "I know too much about my future. The only way to protect it is to forget it."

"Well, what about this wand? You said that could help us!" she snapped, motioning to his mother's wand, purposefully placed on the table to draw her attention.

"Oh, that," he answered offhandedly. "Well, apparently, only those who used the portal can reopen it. So unless you can wield magic, I'm afraid, you're going nowhere." He picked the wand up and tossed it at her. "Can you?"

She caught it and positioned it in her hands correctly, but he felt no flare of magic come from her, and her face held no recognition, leaving him only to speculate. Was it the glamour he'd placed on them? Did she truly not know how to use what was inside of her? Or did she just not want to? Had she ever before? He'd assumed so since she was responsible for breaking the Curse in the new world, but in the future he knew he'd help her along with that. For now, it seemed, she was stuck right where she was, which was fine with him. If he'd already gotten to Baelfire in his time, then he had no need for her in the future. At least not as far as he knew.

"Thought not."

"So, you just expect us to stay here? What about protecting your precious future?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do!"

Suddenly Jones drew his sword and pointed it right at him. "He means to kill us, Swan."

He laughed. "No. I mean to put you someplace safe. Someplace even I dare not go. Where I store the magic that is too dark or unpredictable even for me."

And if they happened to starve to death while they were waiting for their future to arrive…so be it!

"Rumplestilts-"

She didn't even have time to get the last word out before he waved his hand. All at once, he enacted a few simple spells, one to remove the glamor he'd put on them, another to return their clothes, one more to remove Hook's sword from his hand, mostly just because he could, and another to put them down in his Room-Without-a-Door. There. That was taken care of. Now he could do what he needed to do in peace, and with any luck, in a few days, or maybe less, the Swan would figure out her powers and get them back to their timeline. After all, he'd put them in a place that not even Belle would hear them call for help. Their lives depended on her working that magic. And, as for the matter of his maid…

He bottled the potion he'd finished and with a wave of his hand took himself and his things back up to his tower.

He had a loophole to create.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do love this chapter. It is so very Rumbelle centric even if Hook and Emma are there at the end. And it is cute. I think it shows just how deep his feelings for her run already, he just needed someone to point them out.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments and very kind thoughts on the last chapter. Only two more chapters left in the 3x21/3x22 chapters. Up next we're going to see what his loophole is. Anyone have any guesses as to what he's going to attempt to do? Peace and Happy Reading!


	152. Unfinished Loopholes

Once in his tower, he pocketed the memory potion he'd fixed for himself and then located paper and a quill sitting at one of his desks. Without losing a beat, he dipped the quill into his ink and began to write a letter to himself. He wasn't very good at it. Some of the previous Dark Ones kept meticulous records in the Chronicles, using them as diaries, but he used his more like notebooks or cookbooks, putting down spells and curses, enchantments and potions, but never letters or details or even stories regarding himself. It felt awkward to write himself a letter, but he'd decided it was the only thing he could do.

Writing it all down was more difficult than he knew when he'd first come up with this idea. For a long while, he stared at the paper, unsure about how to begin a letter to oneself. Or…was it simply that he really just didn't want to do what he was about to do. That thought was enough to make him stop wasting time. It was a reminder of why he had to do it.

_Rumpelstiltskin, if you've done your job right, your memories of the last few days are gone. Do not try to get them back; do not attempt to remember. You have taken them away for a reason, and not even that reason should be known to you. The following are a list of things you'll need to know regarding your missing memories._

_1) The downstairs will need to be cleaned up. You moved the couch and the table downstairs for Belle._

_2) Regina will likely be angry the next time you see her. If she doesn't already know that Snow White has eluded her capture, and in this case, her execution, again, she will soon enough._

_3) Snow White and Prince Charming have met and are well on their way to True Love. They'll need watching for a time to make sure everything goes as it should, but for now, the time is coming nearer for the Swan to be born and the Curse to be cast. You are one step closer to your son._

His son…

If he only had a few hours, maybe a few precious days if it took the Swan a long while, then he wanted to bask in that knowledge. He wanted to languish in the feeling of certainty while he still had it. He was going to see his son again. And that should have been all he needed. It should have been all he wanted, but…he wanted more! Just knowing he was going to see him wasn't enough! He wanted to know it all! How would they meet? Where? What happened to him? Who was the dark-haired man? Where had he been all this time? What had he been doing? Where did he like to go? What were they going to do now? Now? Then? In the future?

Suddenly his heart leaped up into his throat, and he felt nervous in a way he hadn't before. His entire life had been leading up to that moment, the moment he reconnected with Baelfire. But what happened after that moment passed? The last time he'd seen his son hadn't been a happy memory for either of them. What would their reunion be like? Would Baelfire even want to know him? Would he run away from him? Would he embrace him? Would he forgive him? Now that was the question, wasn't it?

Would he be willing, after everything that had happened, to forgive him?

He didn't know where his son had been, if time moved the same as here in this new land, but he knew that the boy was still going to be alive. There was the potential then that he'd felt every last year apart just the same as he had, with no hope of ever seeing him again. Would he want to? Suddenly he remembered the Swan's hesitation when he'd asked her if he'd ever see him again. It was a quick "yes" and nothing more, a glance at the ground, swiftly away from him. Had she been afraid of him? Or was she hiding something, something he might not want to know? It was difficult to think about when he wasn't so focused on whether or not it would actually happen. Perhaps in these moments, when he knew it would, was why it had come to light now. Just like why he'd allowed himself to enjoy the pleasure of Belle's company today. Knowing, in a way, made it easier. But the decision not to know, to not go forward…he tried to shake his head free from thoughts of Belle and of Baelfire but found it to be quite impossible. They were both there, planted firmly in his mind, a reminder of why the little bottle in his pocket was necessary. And more importantly, a reminder as to why the letter in his hand was just as necessary.

He swallowed, then looked down at the paper before him. With a sigh, he dipped his quill in the ink. It hovered over the paper again as his hand shook slightly. He knew what he needed to do. He knew it. Instructing himself to send Belle away was going to be best for everyone involved. It would keep her safe from him. He just needed the courage to write the damn words! He clenched his teeth together so hard they might crack, then bent to the table.

_4) Concerning Belle, you must immediately-_

Magic.

Before he could finish the sentence, he felt magic overwhelm him. It was here on the property! Powerful magic that certainly wasn't Dark but also wasn't pure Light either. Someone of Light using Dark Magic…a dark wand. Already? This soon?!

His heart raced as he strode over to his mirror and opened up a reflection to the Room-With-No-Doors. The Swan's back was to him, Hook was nearly blocked by her body, facing her as she spoke. In her hand, the wand was white.

"Neal was right," Emma muttered.

"About what?" Jones asked, pushing her, pressing her to explore whatever it was this Neal had told her and had her so choked up that her magic was working.

"You don't have a home until you just miss it. Being with my parents the last few days, but not really being with them? I've never missed them more. Storybrooke. That's my home." Storybrooke. That name. He'd heard it in a vision, the original and the one he'd had just before he brought them here, as a matter of fact, he just didn't know that was where they were going to end up until now. And if she continued down this path, the wand glowing as it was, he wouldn't know again until they got there.

"What?" the Savior asked as Killian gave her a smile. He could place it now, that look that he gave her, the one he'd seen before. He'd seen it on the look of Charming at one point or another this week. He'd seen it in his own mirror not long ago when he'd beheld Belle. The fool loved her.

"Look down," Hook answered. The Swan followed instructions and looked down at the wand in her hand, beaming away and growing stronger by the second. "I'd say you've got your magic back. Now, shall we go?"

Without hesitation, the pair sidestepped one another. He moved out of her way and she moved out of his. He watched as she held the wand in her hand for what seemed like forever, long enough for him to look over at the letter on his desk, the one that was unfinished. He hadn't told himself that he had to send Belle away yet! He hadn't had the chance before she'd figured her magic out!

Suddenly there was a noise in front of him calling his attention back to the mirror. She'd done it. A vortex had opened red and yellow and orange swirling in the air, offering them a chance at escape, back to the world that held his son! He couldn't jump through it, he knew he couldn't, if he did it would never work, because that would mean he wasn't here to give Regina the Curse and then the world he ended up in wasn't a world that would hold his son it wasn't even one that would hold him! But he had to know…would she see Baelfire when she returned? A forgiving Baelfire? Could she tell him of this day?! Or was he gone forever? Moved away with no wish to see him? Was he doing all this for one moment of rejection? Or a lifetime of happiness?

"Yup!" Hook groaned, hauling the girl into his arms. "Well done, Swan," he muttered before walking through and losing his footing. He was gone just like that. And his answer…the letter wasn't done…but in a moment his answers would be too!

He could finish it when he had his answers!

As Emma took a step, he allowed himself to enter into the chamber. "You opened it!" he muttered. The girl stumbled, glancing back at him and giving him the opportunity to grab her hand before she could go through. "Wait."

"Let me go!"

"My son, what happens when I find him?"

"I thought you wanted to forget?" she cried, tearing at his grip, trying to get away. Her desperation was warranted. He knew that portal wouldn't stay open forever.

"Before I do, I need to know. Does he forgive me?"

"Yes!" she answered, her eyes darted away from him again. A truth shrouded in mystery. It wasn't his imagination; she was hiding something.

"Yes, but what? What aren't you telling me? Tell me, or you will never leave!"

"He dies!"

He felt the grip his hand had on the girl slip slightly as his body went numb. He couldn't feel his arms or his legs, couldn't understand how he was still standing. He felt dizzy, like the floor had just dropped out of the room and he was suspended in mid-air. No, he hadn't heard what he'd just heard. It wasn't true!

"He forgives you. He loved you. He died to save all of us. Don't let it be in vain."

"No," he begged. He was doing this for a lifetime with his son, not for a few measly moments before he died! He needed to know how! Was it disease? He'd make a cure! Was it murder? He'd kill his murderer first! Even if he had to go to Neverland and strangle Pan with his own bare hands! Whatever she said, he'd fix it! He'd toss this potion away and save him! They'd fixed her mistake, why not save his boy?!

"I can change what happened. I can save my boy."

"You think you can change the future, but you might make it worse. I loved him, too," she cried, her eyes unwavering despite the tears in them. "I wanted to save him. He died a hero. You can't take that away from him! You have to drink the potion. You have to forget everything I just told you."

Forget everything she'd just told him. How could he do that? How could he take this information and just shove it aside when he had the opportunity to change…

To change...

Just like Bae always wanted him to do. Being a hero was all his son ever wanted, he'd have gone off and died in the ogre wars if he let him, he'd have tracked down the Grendel. He'd have pulled him through that portal and gotten them through whatever came. The girl loved him, and she'd let him go because he died a hero. It was what was important to Bae. But Bae was what was important to him. Let his son live for him or let his son die a hero…he hated being faced with such a decision.

But…her warning was true. If he tried to change anything he was going to do, he might make things worse, he might change something else. He might risk his chance of ever seeing him. Could he risk Baelfire living a long life without ever seeing him again, without ever hearing him say he was sorry he hadn't gone with him? Or confess his regrets, let his son die with peace between them. Happy short life or unknown long life?

These last few days, knowing that he'd see his son again had him in a good mood. Hearing what he just heard…he couldn't wait to go back to living on hope alone. His letter wasn't finished, and he was okay with that. If he didn't drink the potion now, then he knew he might not ever. And at the moment, all he found he wanted was Belle's company, even if he knew he wouldn't.

He brought to his mind the image he had of his adult son, graying hair and all, and focused on it, then drank the potion down quickly.

As Baelfire began to fade from his memory, he gave the girl before him a small shove into the portal before he could forget to let her go. She cried out as the magic grabbed her, and she flew into it. A moment later the portal closed, and the noise was gone.

He tossed something out of his hand that hit the ground on a high note. It sounded like glass. There was a strange taste in his mouth, one of…of…the taste and the ingredients that made it were fading by the second.

Something winked on the ground before him. A wand? One of the wands he'd taken off the gypsy all those years ago? No, not just one of those wands, _the_ wand _._ The different wand _._ He'd been keeping it in a different place than the others because it's magic was so different. But as he looked down at it for the first time in a long while, he felt a shiver creep down his back. Long ago, when he'd first stumbled upon the wand, he hadn't a clue who's magic it belonged to, now that he'd come face to face with that magic, he knew exactly who it belonged too.

The Black Fairy.

His mother's wand!

He knelt down to pick it up off the ground and suddenly felt aware of something that was wrong. The wand, it wasn't in a box, he'd picked it up off the ground…but…why was it on the ground and not in it's box? What was it doing out here?! On the ground?! In…

He glanced up and around. He was in the Room-With-No-Doors! He could have sworn a moment ago he'd been in his tower, thinking about the book that boy from Clopin's caravan had and David's journey to Midas' Castle. How had he gotten here? He never came into the Room-With-No-Doors, it was too dangerous! And why was his mother's wand out of its hiding place?! Why was it here? Better yet… _why_ was he? Still here?! Confused and vulnerable in the most dangerous part of his castle?

"What the hell am I doing in here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one hard ass chapter to write. Simply put, there's not a lot you can do for it. This chapter is either meant to be confusing as hell, or put words to a feeling that no words can describe. The first half is confusing, it's meant to be confusing, it's meant to make you think that he's super conflicted, that he's not thinking straight, that he knows he shouldn't know about Bae, but can't help himself. He doesn't want to send Belle away, but he knows that he has to. Or at least he thinks he has to. And then you have the second half. There are no words to describe how a parent feels when their child dies. Nothing could ever adequately describe the moment the bottom drops out of your world. I could never write that well. Especially because Rumple is a smart man. He knows that while Bae will die, at this moment he has not died. It's a giant conflict. And then, of course, he has to forget everything...ah...all I can really say is that I tried. I tried really hard on this chapter, I just hope it's an okay result and rest in the knowledge that the best is yet to come.
> 
> Thank you very much RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. One more chapter to go and then I'm super excited for what's coming next! Peace and Happy Reading!


	153. What Never Happened

_Rumpelstiltskin, if you've done your job right, your memories of the last few days are gone. Do not try to get them back, do not attempt to remember. You have taken them away for a reason, and not even that reason should be known to you. The following are a list of things you'll need to know in regard to your missing memories._

_1) The downstairs will need to be cleaned up. You moved the couch and the table downstairs for Belle._

_2) Regina will likely be angry the next time you see her. If she doesn't already know that Snow White has eluded her capture, and in this case, her execution, again, she will soon enough._

_3) Snow White and Prince Charming have met and are well on their way to True Love. They'll need watching for a time to make sure everything goes as it should, but for now, the time is coming nearer for the Swan to be born and the curse to be cast. You are one step closer to your son._

_4) Concerning Belle, you must immediately-_

He'd found the letter sitting on his desk next to a bottle of ink and a quill that looked as though it had been hastily dropped before he could finish writing. The ink was still wet, indicating it hadn't been written long ago. Of course, if the letter was to be believed, the last instruction to himself would suggest that he, or whoever had written it, hadn't finished writing. Whoever had written it...he would have loved to discover it was a trick of some kind, that someone was trying trap him or get him to do something he'd regret. Then, he would be free to pursue what had happened that led up to finding that letter. Unfortunately, over the next several days, he saw evidence that the letter certainly was genuine. To begin with, the letter wasn't signed, but it was written in his own hand. It bore no traces of magic, and whoever had left it had access to his tower. Those signs alone pointed to himself as the letter's author.

Furthermore, the Great Room downstairs bore traces of the "cleaning" that was mentioned as "necessary" under item number one. The last time he'd seen it his wheel and a mirror had decorated it, now the couch that Belle had moved in her first few weeks as well as a small table with magical supplies, including his crystal ball, decorated it. Why? He didn't know. The letter hadn't stated, only that it had been for Belle. She showed no interest in starting a conversation around strangers or any odd incidents that had happened in the last few days, forcing him to assume that no one else had been in the castle to know about the Great Room change of arrangement.

After inspecting the Great Room and correcting the furniture, he also checked in on Regina, Snow, and David. David and Snow seemed no different than the last time he'd glimpsed them though perhaps a little more…weary? Distracted? He'd found David in Midas' castle looking out the window of his tower to the woods, and he'd found Snow in a tavern, sitting by the window, doing the exact same thing. There was no indication that they'd met, but there was also no indication that he'd see anything different. He'd needed them to meet; that didn't mean they had to be joined at the hip or writing love letters to one another after one meeting.

Instead, for confirmation, he'd gone to the only other clue that the letter had given him: Regina. Oh, angry she was. It appeared that in the last few days Snow had indeed eluded her capture along with some other prisoners. He listened as she paced back and forth in her room, the skirts of her black dress swishing and swaying with every turning stride. She'd thought she finally had her, been closer than she'd ever thought she was! She'd kidnapped a woman from the forest, one who knew where she was hiding but refused to tell her. She'd sent her back to the castle to be executed when she didn't talk along with three others. She'd attended the engagement ball for Prince James and Princess Abigail at Midas' castle, a pleasantry and expectation for royalty. While she'd been there, she'd received word that Snow was in the castle and sent her guards, but some woman, a princess she claimed though she could find no proof of that, helped her escaped. She'd taken the woman prisoner and put her on her own little death row as well, hoping she might talk. But it wasn't necessary. The next night Snow White broken into her tower and tried to use Black Fairy Dust on her. But of course, she wasn't surprised, she'd used her magic to steer clear of the dust and had her guards take her prisoner. She'd had them build a pyre right then and there so that she didn't escape, and she'd slept like a baby for all of one night thinking that Danial was finally avenged. But when the next morning came, she received word that two of her prisoners had escaped. And worse, that afternoon she was visited by some trolls that wanted reward money, they'd seen Snow White, attacked her and Prince James that very morning on the Troll bridge. She'd used her genie in the mirror to see that her enemy was alive and well and realized how she'd escaped into the night.

Talking to Regina answered nearly all his questions, even assured him that the False Prince and Princess had met. What it didn't do was explain the last line of his letter, the unfinished sentence.

_4) Concerning Belle, you must immediately-_

What?! What did he need to do immediately?! Did she need something? Had she done something? Did she know something?! Why hadn't he finished that line?! He hoped the woman might give him a hint, that when they saw each other she'd be bashful or upset, maybe angry or even remarkably happy! Anything that might give him a hint at what he needed to know! But she was normal. Completely and utterly normal. She delivered his meal to him on time, like always. They ate breakfast in silence. She did her chores, he did his work, they had tea and dinner, a bit of time together in the Great Hall before they went their separate ways and that was it. She asked nothing about the last few days. She didn't pry or distance herself. Her heart rate was normal. He didn't understand what he was supposed to do with her or why there was such urgency.

He wasn't sure what happened over the last few days, why he'd felt a need to give himself a memory potion to wipe it all away, or why he told himself not to explore it. But he knew that if there was one person in this realm he trusted it was himself. Confident that he'd written the letter, he decided to listen to his own remarks and let it all go. Unsettled as he felt about Belle, he had to believe that if the instruction was essential, he would have finished writing it down instead of leaving it blank. And, if it was important, then he had to believe with all his might that the issue would come back again. He just had to wait it out. And in the meantime…he had work to do.

The list of clients that King George had given him for the Golden Fairy-it wasn't her exact whereabouts, but it would have to do. He spent all of one day using his crystal ball, searching out each individual name until he got to one, in particular, that gave him pause.

Ella, an oddity. The Golden Fairy dealt with "clients" that appeared not to need a Fairy Godmother. Her godchildren were rich, upper class, and in most cases royal, but this girl…she was a maid. A real maid, not like the kind Belle was, who was well cared for and got away with everything. This girl dressed in rags, there were cinder marks on her face, sweat beaded on her forehead as she worked in front of the fire cooking dinner, a general look of misery about her. But she was kind. She fed mice what little she had, took care of animals, and talked to the stars. And all the while her golden hair…

Golden hair.

His vision! The original one, the one that he'd had when the Seer had given him the answer to everything! She'd been in it! In fact, now that he thought about it, she'd been in it twice!

 _"A precious debt from a woman of ash will find the boy of fire…"_ Those were the Seer's words followed by the face of a woman in rages with golden hair framing a face with soot…her face. She was the woman, the one in rags the one he needed to find Baelfire. And her fairy Godmother…how did she play into this?

Another vision gave him his answer, brief and uninformative as it was.

_It was nighttime, he knew because the sky was dark. The woman was outside, she was sweeping when suddenly the golden fairy appeared before her. In her hand was a wand, a wand like he'd seen before in another vision. It was the sixth of the six wands. He watched as before his eyes as the fairy exploded into nothing and left standing in her place…was him._

_"Cinderella,"_ the Seer whispered into his head, a new name for the girl of ash, a new piece to the puzzle.

One step after another. Piece by piece. It was all falling into place. It was beginning to happen so fast he could hardly believe that what he'd been working on all this time was finally starting to pass. It was overwhelming. It was almost unbelievable. But he couldn't allow himself to be stopped by it. His memories of the last few days were locked away, he could feel right down to the marrow of his bones that it wasn't time to approach the Golden Fairy yet, and he hadn't a clue what he was supposed to do about Belle. With nothing else to do, he did the only thing he could think to do. He turned his attention back to something attainable, something he should be going after.

He wanted to find the boy from Clopin's latest group of immigrants. He had to get his hands on his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know that I'd call this chapter a Filler Chapter because it actually exists for several very important reasons. There are a lot of really important things touched upon here even if it does feel sort of "fillery". This chapter sort of draws a bridge between the 3x21/3x22 stuff and what's coming next. It works to close out our last section but also to introduce us to what's going to be happening for Rumple next. In addition, this has the added bonus of explaining something that was left unexplained in the series. It's not really a big deal, just one of those stupid little things that you notice when you do something like this. It is a "goof" I suppose, technically, but it's not a big one so I've made my peace with the fact that it exists and tried to explain it here. Cinderella...Rumple asks George for the Fairy's location when he brings him David. And yet, we know that by the time he gets to her Snow and David are married and have taken back their Kingdom because we finally saw the ball scene in season six. It's only once you really stop to examine the timeline that you realize that is one hell of a healthy gap of time that he waited to go after the Gold Fairy. So, this chapter seeks to explain that a little bit because without explanation, I just can't see Rumple sitting around and giving it "time". Like I said, not really a big deal, but problematic enough for me that I needed to explain it. How'd I do?
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I was happy to hear you thought that it was satisfactory. I'm really excited about where we're heading next! It's gonna be good! So, if your ready, let's move forward! Peace and Happy Reading!


	154. Saying No

It took him an entire day and night to find Clopin and his band of newcomers. That wasn't too bad considering all the time that had passed since he'd first seen the boy and now. Of course, it helped that he had given them their destination. "Go to the furthest reaches of King George's Kingdom, to avoid the call of war, but bask in the riches that would come after…" They weren't there yet. He found them a few days outside the boarders of King George's Kingdom. He spied them from the trees, looked down on them from a safe perspective. They were more tired than when he'd last seen them, perhaps a little skinnier as well, and there were less of them. Travel certainly did not look good on this group. But there, sitting by the fire at night, was the boy he'd seen before. The same book he'd mentioned was still clutched in his little hands, and he could have screamed. Children…he knew how attached they could get to certain objects, but he'd never seen a boy carry around a book with such fervor. At this point, he was going to need to ask Belle how to get it out of his hands!

He watched them throughout the next day, waited for Clopin to leave the group, and get some rest himself, while they were supposed to track down some food and go collect berries. At first, he'd hoped the boy might be sent out to do some gathering on his own and he might take the book then. But instead, it appeared he might get his chance when he rubbed his eyes and was sent inside their tent to nap for the afternoon. When everyone was distracted, he moved himself inside the boy's tent, hoping the book would be right there and he might take it away and leave the others to assume he'd lost it as little boys did. Instead, the boy was sleeping with the damn thing! His fists curled around it; he held it close to his chest like it was some sort of toy instead of a book!

His options were few. He could take the book and risk the boy not noticing, assume that he would sleep through it and would think he lost it when he woke up. But that entire plan ran the risk that the boy wouldn't wake up. If he did, if he saw him even if it was just a glimpse before he disappeared, he might tell his parents. Two sightings of him and the book missing would give credit to what the boy said and anything he remembered that was in the book. If Clopin put two and two together, it could potentially damage their partnership and that wouldn't be beneficial to him, especially if he didn't know whether or not the information in the book was worth it.

He could have gone back into his tree; waited for another time. He'd told Belle that he'd be back in a week and it was only about two days, he could take a few more days, but he'd already seen enough. This was the final straw. The book was never without the boy, and the boy was never without people. The only thing he could think to do was wait to take the book at a time where there were less people to contend with. They weren't far from George's Kingdom, once they arrived, they'd establish a home of their own, away from Clopin. That would be when he'd tried again. In the meantime…

He used the dagger to cut a small bit off the boy's blanket and pocketed it, then took himself back to his castle.

There were times that he liked to hide in his tower, let Belle think he was still away when he wasn't so he could get work done or even just to get a break from her, get her scent out of his head. But disappointed as he was coming home empty-handed, he sought her out and found her in the kitchen. She was standing at the table, looking down at the food he made sure appeared every day for her to fix their meals. She was laughing! Laughing! Despite the fact that no one had said anything, despite the fact that she was by herself, despite the fact that he couldn't see a single thing that was funny about her situation or this day her shoulders shook with laughter. How did she do that? How did she manage to be in such a good mood during the worst of situations? He could stand to learn to do that.

"My, my, my I never knew my presence could reduce you to bouts of laughter!"

Her smile vanished as she jumped at the sound of his voice. "Rumpelstiltskin!" she exclaimed. "I uh…I didn't know you were back!"

"Well, it is my castle!" he teased. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but I had to return eventually."

She opened her mouth, and her gaze swept over him before she closed it quickly and looked down at the table. She was blushing. Why was she blushing?

"I'm just surprised," she clarified even as her blush deepened across her chest. "I wasn't expecting you until later and I thought I'd be dining by myself tonight but…"

But…

That but could lead to a number of different explanations. But she was happy he was back. But she was upset she had to cook for two. But she was glad to be mistaken. But she'd been looking forward to the night alone?! Which "but" was it?!

"Your trip!" she exclaimed suddenly, looking up at him with bright and interested eyes that made him want to shake her until she went back to whatever it was she was going to say. "Tell me about your trip! Did it go well? Where did you go? Why are you back early?"

He tapped his fingers together as he entered the room and felt heat stir against his skin. "So many, many questions, why so curious?"

"Because while you've been out seeing the world, I've been holed up here alone for the last two days," she joked smiling at him. "And you said that you'd be gone longer, if you're back early I…I only wonder if that means things went well."

"Some unforeseen circumstances cut my trip short," he commented sadly. He knew what she was like when she used that tone of voice. She wanted a story, she was hungry for information. And this time he didn't have a gauntlet to hand her and change the subject. But…maybe something else would work?

"Well, did you find what you were after?"

"Not today," he whispered, disappointed. He would have been pleased to report to her that he'd succeeded, to show her that he'd collected a book of all things. But he'd returned empty-handed. Fortunately, his memories of his last encounter with Clopin reminded him that he did have a book waiting for her. With all the confusion over David and after waking up without his memories, he'd forgotten to give the last one to her. "But," he shrieked, aware that he didn't startle her as she poured warm water for them. How did she always know exactly what he needed and wanted? "On my way back, I was fortunate to come across an old woman selling trinkets out of the back of a wagon, and I happened to pick up a treasure of a different nature."

He offered his hand and she looked put off by it before he summoned the book he'd found for her on the back of Clopin's wagon. Immediately she set the teapot aside so hard that he thought it might break. Her jaw dropped, and she stepped closer to take it from his hands.

"For me?" she asked breathlessly, despite the fact that it was already in her hands.

"For whatever trouble my early arrival caused you."

But he wasn't sure that she heard the words. She was already turning the book over and over in her hands, examining the binding, checking the leather at the corners, her hands touched every inch of that book before opening it up to examine the title page and, he assumed, the author.

"Don't get too excited," he urged quickly. "It's not the author you asked me to look for. It's from our own realm. I'm afraid this time you'll have to settle for a different sort of tale!"

"It's wonderful!" she said with a laugh in her voice. Her blush grew again, and she took a small step that made him fear and hope for one brief second that she might launch herself into his arms again. He was already considering how he would respond to such an action when she stepped back and held it tight to her chest, just as the boy had. The only difference between the two was that the boy hadn't hidden beautiful rounded cleavage from what he was sure were two perfect breasts.

"Thank you," she smiled.

He swallowed and tried to get the thought he'd had out of his head. What did he care if her breasts were perfect or not?

"It's no matter," he dismissed, turning to the table to find a distraction. All he found was the cups of tea that she'd poured for them. Exactly the perfect thing. "But don't get too used to it, dearie!" he snapped, pushing a cup in her direction. "This was simply a coincidence I saw fit to take advantage of. You get a new book to read, and I get the peace and quiet that comes from you reading a new book, after you're finished with whatever it is you're working on now of course." He motioned to the book that she had in front of her, the book that had somehow made her laugh when he'd first walked in.

"Oh, no!" she corrected, setting the new book aside and pulling the old one closer. It was only then that he was it wasn't a regular book at all. It was a cookbook. "I was just trying to figure out what to make for dinner. I think that I've made everything in this book!"

"An accomplishment for someone who'd never set foot in a kitchen before. Surely you must have your favorites."

"Of course, I do, but…why is it always beef?" she questioned with an exasperated breath.

"I happen to like beef!"

"Everyone does," she added quickly. "But I feel like we've had nothing but beef for the last few weeks! I'm ready for chicken or to try cooking fish."

"You don't do the shopping." Neither did he, frankly, but he summoned food based on what he felt like or thought of. To be honest, he rarely had a preference. He supposed beef was just his default. He could fix that, change to chicken and add fish to the rotation for her if she wanted.

"No…but…but I could…"

He swallowed and turned to glance at her again, her eyes examining his face with a less than innocent expression; less than confident as well. The room stilled. Was she asking, suggesting, what he thought she was?

"Perhaps if someone ever cared to accompany me to the village at the bottom of the mountain, I could find us something besides beef. Something we'd both like to try!"

She was asking what he thought she was. And he felt suddenly like the world had flipped them both upside-down.

"Are you asking to leave?" he managed to choke out.

"Never," she snapped with cold insistence, as if she was insulted that he'd even made the suggestion. He'd never felt such relief in his life as that glare. Funny, why had panic been his first reaction? Belle gave a small shrug. "At least not the kind of leaving you are thinking of."

"Then tell me, what other type of leaving do you have on your mind?" His heart raced at her words. What other kind of leaving was there?! She wasn't happy with something and she wanted to leave. What had he done to encourage that?!

She took a breath and turned to face him with a seriousness he'd never seen in her eyes, not even when he'd done something stupid and she insisted he fix it!

"A weekly trip to the village down the road, to their market so I can plan meals and buy the food myself from now on…"

"That village is at the bottom of the mountain, what you are proposing is a day's trip, on your own, down a mountain, and through a thick wood where the path is nearly impossible to follow on several occasions." And she could barely navigate climbing a ladder without falling off. "It's out of the question! Besides, what would I reap from the benefit of a deal like this in the end but a day of solitude wondering if my maid will ever return?!"

"You could come with me!" she insisted before he could storm out of the room, wondering how their encounter could have started so well and ended so poorly. But now…she wanted him to go with her? Wanted him? With her? He couldn't have heard that right. "I never said I wanted to go alone. You could go with me, that way you won't have to worry or be in the castle by yourself. And you won't have to make sure that I have food all the time. It'll make things easier on you."

For a moment, he was tempted. So tempted. He could see the images so clearly in his head he might have been having a vision, the pair of them walking through the forest, her hand in the crook of his arm, chatting and smiling along their way, a basket swinging from her arm as they walked.

_She was older then. Older and urging him to put whatever he was holding away and come have a picnic with her in the sunset. An old scroll, that was what he was holding. It was important somehow and yet he quickly rolled it up and obeyed her call._

Fantasy. That's all it was. An image his imagination had conjured up. And it was because of that image, that fantasy, that he couldn't allow the first one to come true. He swallowed before he turned to face her, summoning the courage to tell her the last thing he ever wanted to tell her.

"It's far easier for me to ensure you have food than to take the time to escort you to the village. The answer is 'no'."

With no other explanation he strode out of the kitchen feeling almost lightheaded and sick to his stomach. He hated saying no to her. He hated being the reason she didn't smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these chapters. LOVE THEM. In fact, I love everything that's about to happen in the next month because with the exception of only a few chapters these are some of the Rumbelleiest Rumbelle chapters ever! These are the chapters where you find Rumple really in the thick of it. Where you want to scream at him that he is so totally, completely, and wholly in love that he's being an idiot, but there's no bother because we all know he'd never listen to you anyway. I'm so excited for you to read them.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm hoping you'll like this and I'm sort of hoping that Moments Readers will remember this plotline. This chapter was added into Moments at a later date. It's nothing that was ever "seen" but when the Comic Short "Of Truth and Daggers" came out, I had to add a bunch of chapters to Moments and I had to add about two in order to set that sequence up. This comes from those chapters of "set-up" and I was really happy to find that they played into Rumple's current story really well! I hope that as we move forward, you'll agree. Peace and Happy Reading!


	155. The Power of a Touch

She was wistful lately. And he didn't really know why that surprised him. She was upset because he'd denied her the ability to go into town, he knew that. She wasn't the passive-aggressive type, like Milah had been, but for some reason that was what he'd expected. He'd expected her to slam doors, to plop his food down in front of him with little grace, to refuse to talk to him when he wanted company. But she didn't do any of that. That wasn't the way that Belle got angry. When she was angry, she told him. She yelled and screamed and told him that he was wrong.

At first he was pleased to see she didn't exhibt signs of anger. But the more he watched her, the worse off he found it was. Anger he could deal with. But wistfulness, distraction, sorrow...what the hell was he supposed to do about those?! When they sat together in the evening she often like her gaze wander from her book to the fire. At meals she sighed and laid her head against the back of the chair with sad eyes. During the day he often saw movement from the window of his tower into the window of her tower. Sometimes he even caught her staring out her window into the village. She had no anger, at least none that was directed at him. No, it was almost as if she was upset with herself.

He wanted to understand. He wanted to understand her so much! He wanted to know what was in her head, what she was thinking about, whether or not she was angry, if there was anything that he could do to change! He'd tried. So many times at tea and after dinner he'd tried to think of something to say to her but the words never came! Not even when he simply wanted to ask how she was enjoying the book. Or how she like the chicken and fish he'd added into her diet.

All he felt was guilt. And at the same time fear because all he could think about was all the things that could go wrong if he let her do what she'd requested. She could fall. She could sprain her ankle. She could be kidnapped. She could meet a man, one that might want to rescue her. For all he knew, her next request would be her freedom so she could go with her new knight and he didn't think he'd be able to refuse her.

But…

He wanted so much to make her happy again, so much to see her smile, so much to talk with her again without this between them. And what she'd said…she had a point. Every day he thought of what she might need from the market and summoned it into the kitchen for her. It took him no more than a second, but it was still time that he spent on it. Taking her himself would take even more time. Letting her go on her own…it would make her happy. It would give her something new to do in her day now that most of her initial tasks were done! She always cleaned, but it was maintenance cleaning, now that the entire castle had been cleaned within an inch of its life. The flowers were blooming outside because she'd tended to the gardens. The laundry was always done on time. She'd gone through one of her cookbooks. What else was there for her to do?! Other than read and learn to do something new. Caretaking. Going to the market should be her job, as well as fetching him straw and wool, that was part of the original deal. But he'd never asked her to do it. At first because he didn't trust her, but now it was because he didn't like the idea. But if he ever wanted to see her smile again…there was one solution.

He wasn't trying to sneak up on her, despite the fact that she had a tendency to jump when he showed up that wasn't ever his intention. Maybe in the beginning, but not anymore. Perhaps that was why, when he arrived on the final step of her tower and found her standing at the window, he paused. Her beauty meant nothing to him, but that didn't mean that he couldn't stop to take it in every once in a while. After all, he'd lived for over a century and there were still times he found himself struck by the beauty of the sunrise. Why should she be any different?

She was standing by the window, looking out, probably over the village. The sunlight hit her but didn't overwhelm her, simply highlighting the dips and curves of her face and body. The breeze blew through her hair but only lifted a few delicate strands. Soft fingers against the rough stone of the sill…the sigh she let out was not one of dread or irritation, merely…wistful. She was a beautiful creature, wasn't she?

His foot broke the spell the moment that he shifted his weight and the stair beneath him creaked a bit. If he'd known that would have happened he never would have done it.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" she exclaimed quickly backing away from the window. "What uh…what, what can I do for you?"

Stuttering. He hadn't scared her, but she was surprised to find him there.

"Daydreaming when there are chores to be done?" he questioned, entering her temple as if he had just arrived and hadn't been staring at her for minutes before.

"I'm about to begin my chores. I had a bit of time and I was just looking for a place to put my new book."

Finally! The opening he'd been waiting for!

"Ah…you've finished it already then?" he questioned, trying to make it sound as offhand as possible.

"Twice," she nodded. "It's not difficult when there is very little to do."

He could tell that she hadn't meant to inflict guilt upon him just by the way she'd given a small gasp. But he still felt the words. Very little to do…because she'd done it already, all but a few of the jobs he'd given her because he hadn't let her yet. He didn't want to do this, but he was beginning to notice that she was only happy when she was busy. He had to make her busy again.

"Was…was there something else you needed or…or wanted?"

"No, well-yes…I had hoped…"

Hoped…what did he hope? He knew why he'd come up here, he knew what he needed to do, he just didn't know where to start or how to do it. Giving her a book was one thing, a library another, but this…this was something altogether different.

"Perhaps you could explain to me what it is you find some fascinating about the valley village that warrants your sudden interest in paying it a visit!" he snapped, glancing to the window she'd been looking out of. "I can assure you I've never found anything special about it. It's exactly the same as the rest of them. You see one small village, you've seen them all."

"Well, maybe that's just the thing," she sighed, taking a seat in the chair by the fire. "I've never seen one. In my father's palace, everything was done for me. Laundry, shopping, cooking, I never got to experience any of it until you brought me here! Now that I have…I just think it would be nice to go and pick up my own potatoes or fish for once! See what a market is like."

"You're not missing much."

"But I am missing something."

Smart woman. Not missing much did in fact imply there was something to it, but the fault was his. He'd been to a market when he was human, gone every day, week after week, month after month, year after year! He'd been glad when he didn't have to endure it anymore. He supposed he could see how a girl who'd been kept secluded in her father's castle most of her life would want to experience it, but at the same time, he couldn't fathom it. Of all the things she could ask him for, this was what she wanted?

"I just don't understand! For all the grand adventures you read, why would a prisoner dream of a simple village to escape to when they could go anywhere in the realm?! There are far more interesting places to hide in. It's very confusing!"

"I'm no prisoner," she stated very matter of factly. He couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at her, surprised by her answer. He had barely been aware that he'd used that word. Of everything that he'd said that was what she chose to challenge? To correct? "Prisoners are held against their will. I came with you willingly, and I'm not looking to escape now. I'm not looking to leave or run away or even get kidnapped again. I'm just looking to…take care the castle for you! To do my job! To plan meals, to go shopping, everything that a normal caretaker might do!"

Odd, she didn't think of herself as a prisoner. Even despite the fact that he was around?

"And the temptation to send a message to your family? Or to meet a handsome young knight to come in the dark of the night and rid the world of your beastly captor?!" he questioned, flourishing his hands as some less than powerful prince might for her.

"I have never had, nor do I imagine I ever will, have an interest in befriending a knight," she stated clearly and slowly for him. "And as for my family…I already told you. I've never been to a village before. I don't know how to send a message to them, and I wouldn't even if I could. Fish, potatoes, beets, some flour for a cake; all I want is to be able to sit down once a week and plan meals out so that I don't have to waste time thinking of something new every day that matches the ingredients your magic gives me! It'll save us both time and energy."

Heaven help him, she had a point. And there was an honesty to her tone and even in her heartbeat that told him she was telling the truth. She didn't want to meet a knight, she didn't want to send her family a message, she just wanted to do the damn, boring shopping. She wanted to be a caretaker, exactly what he'd brought her to be, not just a maid.

Fuck.

"Very well," he sighed before waving a hand over her so that the cloak he'd given to her before the winter hit was hung over her shoulders. She stood up the moment it happened and looked herself up and down as if searching for something on it, but she wouldn't find what she was looking for because what she needed was still in his hand. He knew it was a dangerous thing to touch her himself, but considering what he was about to allow, considering the fact that this magic couldn't go wrong, he wanted to make sure everything fit properly.

"This doesn't mean you get to visit the town," he pointed out quickly. "The market is at the entrance, inviting for wayward travelers that don't wish to go out of their way to spend a bit of their gold. Getting there and returning will take most of the day from here, it may seem like time to run before I'd notice you were gone but this fastener…"

He held the intricate metal design up for her to see so that she'd know what it was without a doubt. Technically he'd used it with her before, when they'd gone on their trip to hunt down Robin Hood and he'd had no trust in whether or not she would attempt to run away from him. Then he'd used it as a threat, to let her know that he could find her if she ran away. Now he wanted her to know it was there, just in case anyone tried to take her away again or in case she got hurt and needed him, then he would know where she was, he'd be able to find her and bring her home.

"It has a tracking spell on it, whenever you leave the premises with this cloak on, you'll wear this clasp, and it won't matter where you go…I shall know about it! Once a week, to the market and no further, then back again by nightfall. I'll collect the fastener for safe keeping when you've returned tonight. And if you need anything, _anything,_ while you're away, simply say my name three times. I'll find you."

Her jaw dropped at his words and she stood perfectly still as she stared at him, not even breathing, it seemed. For a moment, he thought that he might have accidently used magic to freeze the room and her. And then, all of a sudden and without warning, she took a step forward and threw her arms around his neck.

Again.

The world seemed to freeze all over again as his body felt hot. Every place that she touched him he could feel it so palpably. He was almost proud of himself. He didn't feel tense like he had when she'd first hugged him what felt like a lifetime ago, but he also didn't touch her. As much as he wanted to, as much as he wanted to put his hands back at her waist and see if she'd be as comfortable with his arms as he was with her own he managed to hold himself back. He didn't need to touch her, or turn his head and smell her hair...

An embrace meant that she was happy again. That was what mattered. She was happy…wasn't she?

As if she could read his mind, a second later, she pulled back and as he examined her for signs of happiness she broke into a wide victorious smile. It was a smile well won, and yet he couldn't bear to think of it as a game. His heart began to race as she stared at him and bit her lip. How could someone so innocently beautiful, manage to be that sexy without even trying?

Sexy…had he really just thought that? Of her?

What magic did she possess? It was stronger than anything he'd ever encountered.

"I have to go make a list," she finally exclaimed, moving around him and toward the stairs. "I have to leave quickly, so I can be back before sundown. Oh! Money?"

Yes. Money. That necessary evil that didn't apply to him and never had in that village, not when he'd technically freed him from their King nearly a century ago. A little food was the least they could do to show their gratitude.

"My name will suffice to get you anything you need," he smiled at her as she nodded her head and began to fumble with the clasp just below her throat. It was only then that he realized he hadn't put the one she needed on yet. A stupid mistake. He'd made it so that she would be safe and then been so swept up in her touch that he'd forgotten to give it to her. To put it on her. To be sure, without doubt that she was safe. He needed to make sure…

With barely a breath, he stepped forward and replaced her fingers with his own. She didn't shudder as a woman might have at his touch, she didn't back away or act embarrassed. But her heart did race the moment she dropped her hands to let him work. In fact, damn...she lifted her chin and stuck her chest out a little as if it would grant him easier access. He could feel the blood at the pulse in her neck. What must it be like to put his fingers there and feel her heartbeat with something more than magic?

She was quiet as he worked, her breathing even though he tried to ignore the rise and fall of her chest daring him to look in a very ungentlemanly way. He wouldn't give into such an urge. He could be a beast, but he would be a gentleman with her as well. If she felt safe here, with him, so safe that she felt no urge to find a knight or send a message to her family, then he wanted to keep it that way. He hadn't meant it to be, but she might have been the best deal he'd made in his life.

"Thank you, by the way," she muttered finally. He could feel her words in her throat as his knuckles brushed against her skin. He nearly rejoiced when he finally felt the fussy clasp snap into place. He needed to stop touching her. And he had an odd feeling that she needed it too. "For my book!" she exclaimed too loudly as his hands fell away. "I loved it, and…it really was a wonderful surprise. Thank you!"

Fortunately for him, she left the room before he could tell her that she was more than welcome, leaving behind the heat of her skin on his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for people who are not Moments readers or people who never read the comic "Truth and Daggers" and have no idea what I was talking about in the last chapter when I said I needed to add a few "set-up chapters"... This chapter (and the last) exist because at the end of Skin Deep, when Rumple tells Belle he wants her to go to town, she's surprised. She's shocked! And the comments that she makes about him trusting her in town make it seem like she's never been to the town before. However, when "Truth and Daggers" came out (and A&E have declared the comics to be canon so I can't do anything about that) we learned that Belle does regularly go to the market in town for food with the special clasp that you saw in this chapter. It's an important part of the story, just like her comments later on are important to the story. So, I figured out a way to make it work. "But Treatian, how on earth will you ever explain what she says in 1x12 later?!" Fear not, those answers are coming up very soon. 
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. As promised this one is also super Rumbelley too. I hope you'll like it all as much as I do! (Have I mentioned how much I love these chapters?) I love how awkward and yet sure of himself he is here. I loved getting to write all those different parts of loving a person started to come together and really play on each other in chapters like this. Take it all in, enjoy it all, because Lord knows that it'll all end really very soon. Peace and Happy Reading!


	156. His Day of Mourning

This day again.

He would have thought that it would get better, year after year, but it never did. He would have thought that his day of mourning would come on the day that he lost his son, not the day he'd been born. And yet, year after year, he did this. Year after year, this dreadful day struck. Year after year, he lay in his bed the night before preparing himself, telling himself it wouldn't matter. He was ready for it. The day wouldn't hit as hard as it had the year before.

And then the sun rose.

And it hit hard.

On this day, Baelfire was turning one hundred and twenty-one. Not an impossible age for someone in this realm, but one that was unachieved by most except the magical; himself, for example. One hundred and twenty-one…knowing Bae's genetics, his disgust with magic, he should have given up on ever seeing his son alive again half a century ago. And yet here he was, sitting in his tower, replaying the Seer's Prophecy over and over and over again in his mind like holy scripture. She hadn't been wrong yet. And everything that he'd seen suggested that everything she'd said about his future was going to come to pass. He believed in the prophecy he carried around in his head, truly he did. But some days, like today, it was hard to fathom.

One hundred and twenty-one…

The Curse was, at least, another couple of years from being cast. Most days that gave him hope. In his lifetime, he'd watched the time he had until the Curse hit shrink from centuries to decades and now into numbers that were only single digits! But today all he could think was that it meant that when the Curse was cast Baelfire would be at least one hundred and twenty-three. What had the Seer said? Twenty-eight. After the Curse was cast, the Savior would return to set them free on her twenty-eighth birthday. That meant that Baelfire would be over one hundred and fifty when she returned, and that wasn't counting in any time it would take for her to actually break the Curse!

One hundred and twenty-one seemed impossible for Baelfire. One hundred and fifty seemed…a dream.

But the Seer said it wasn't impossible. If the Seer said it, then it was as good as fact! It was just hard to remember when another birthday came around, and he stopped to consider all that might have happened in the last year that he'd missed. Where was his son? What was he doing? What did he look like? Did time work in the World Without Magic as it did here or was it slower? Was that how he was still alive? Or were they so advanced that perhaps living until two hundred was normal in a place like that?

Those were the questions that filled his mind. All day long, from the moment he'd risen until evening. He'd spent the entire day in his tower. He spun mostly, unable to bring himself to work, he'd tried to lose himself in his wheel. He tried not to think. He tried to forget, to pour every thought he had into the wheel and let himself believe it was just another day. He was unsuccessful.

On more than one occasion he'd gotten up to pace and found that he had to keep himself from wandering off to look for Belle. He could use her, at the moment. Her knack for conversation just might be the one thing that could keep his mind off of what a terrible day it was. But the problem was that she was intuitive. He didn't like to admit it, but she had the ability to look at his face and know something wasn't going according to plan. The next thing he knew she was asking about what was wrong and usually he had the strength to tell her it was nothing and leave or else ignore her altogether. He wasn't sure he had that ability today. He wasn't sure if she asked him what was wrong, he wouldn't like to sit by her side somewhere comfortable, like her library, confess his history to her, the truth of it all, and let her console him. He knew she would. She was kind. And caring. And loving. And smart. There were times that he felt like she already knew. How she knew, he couldn't tell. But she'd already guessed once that he had a family, and that something had happened to them. If he struggled, if he broke down before her, cried a single tear, she'd put her arms around him, and he couldn't trust what he might do if she did that. He'd been married before, and he'd had Margery...he knew that there were other things the body could do to distract the mind. Shameful as it was he didn't think he would want to stop it from happening if they started down a path like that.

So he stayed out of sight. He kept himself at a distance, refused breakfast and tea, and even dinner. He let himself be assaulted with memory after memory of his Baelfire, with unanswered question after unanswered question. He let himself sit for a while and tried to force a vision, just as he did every year, for something in the future, something that he could hold onto for just a couple more years.

But nothing ever came. And by nighttime, he found himself doing what he always did every year on Baelfire's birthday. He pulled out an old shawl that he had enchanted just after Baelfire left so that it would hold onto his boy's scent forever; that was why it lived up in his tower and not down in Baelfire's old room. He laid it out on his table and found a candle that he only ever lit for this moment, year after year. It wasn't the same as blowing out the candles on a birthday cake he'd never been able to afford. But it was something.

"Too many years to count, Bae. But I've counted every one," he muttered before blowing out the wick he used to light the candle.

He should have smelled burning and smoke from the wick. But at that moment, he suddenly smelled…roses?

He turned in the direction of the stairs, the direction of the smell. She stuck out like a sore thumb in the dark, the blue dress he'd given her always seemed to glow in the dark and her pale skin didn't help. She looked like an angel. Even if she did look surprised. He should be the surprised one. She was the one than intruded and yet she looked shocked?!

"I-I-I'm sorry," she sputtered, rocking back on her heels. "I didn't know you were in here."

She offered a small awkward smile, one that probably would have made him smile on any other day, but this one just hurt to look at. He wasn't in the mood. And he didn't need her here.

"Go away," he ordered without half the vigor he'd wanted it to have. His head told him that she had to go, but something else inside of him said the opposite. What did he have to do to convince himself?

She swallowed and blushed at him, then glanced down to a basket that she held in her hands. "I'll, uh, I'll just put these flowers down."

Flowers. Roses. The basket was full of roses. That was what he'd smelled. Just yesterday they'd had a conversation about roses. They were her favorites. He'd told her all the reasons that he loved them as well though his intentions for them were magical, something far less than innocent. Was that why she had them now; why she was bringing them up to him? As an offering of some kind? What did it matter? The closer she got to him, the more he could smell them and her, and more importantly, the less he could smell Bae.

"Go away!" he finally insisted firmly enough to make her pause. He shook his head in frustration, licked is his fingers, and reached out to douse the candle before she could get any more hints. But the moment he moved to put the candle away he realized that perhaps he shouldn't have, perhaps he should have just let her set the flowers down and go because the second he yelled at her he saw her curiosity flare. He could practically feel her brain working as she widened her senses and took in the scene around her. Candle, shawl, his aggressiveness…fuck, why did she have to be so damn smart?!

"I'm, uh…I'm so sorry…" she apologized, her eyes suddenly wide. "It was a remembrance, wasn't it?"

Was that what this was? Was that what it was called? He genuinely had no idea. "A Remembrance"…it sounded so formal. It sounded planned and wanted. All he knew was that lighting this candle every year had become a tradition he didn't want, a tradition that he dreaded.

"How old would he be?"

One hundred and twenty-one.

"No, he's not _dead_ ," he snapped at Belle, understanding the implication of her words. "Would be" was subjective, a wish. But there was nothing subjective about it. It was definitive. Baelfire was one hundred and twenty-one. And one day, he would see him again. Even if it meant he was over one hundred and fifty. "He's just lost."

"Lost?" she questioned with sympathetic curiosity. She wanted to know, not for herself, but for him.

That was what he was afraid of, the reason that he hadn't sought out her company today. He was a broken being, but that didn't mean that he wanted her to look at him like one. He reached out and touched the shawl that lay between them on the table, rustling it just so that his son's scent could permeate the air in the tower once more. Oh, he missed that smell more than any other smell in the entire world!

"Today is his birthday," he whispered, giving into exactly what he'd been afraid he might if she joined him. "I should be with him, celebrating. We had a chance to be happy together, and I was afraid."

He glanced up at her then, wondering what he'd see, wondering what she would see. He didn't want her to look at him like he was some kind of injured puppy, not when he was the Dark One, but at the moment, he didn't know how he wanted her to look at him.

Not like she was looking at him now.

"Maybe it's not too late."

"I hope not…"

Understanding. He didn't want her to understand. He didn't want to connect with her. He didn't want his fantasies to be visions and for his future to point to her! He just wanted to be on his own. That was what he deserved until he found Baelfire. After that…

Villains didn't get happy endings. The boy that would lead him to Baelfire would be his undoing. He just wanted to spend whatever time he had left with his son.

"No…my ending shall not be a happy one," he muttered, pushing himself away from the table. He needed to spin. He needed to do something other than what he was doing. He needed her to take her roses and go so that he could work. Whether he had one minute or one decade with Baelfire after he found him, it would be worth all of this, just to look into his son's eyes as he died.

"Well, you know, I, uh…I always thought the idea of a happy ending was greatly exaggerated," Belle muttered behind him.

Her words stopped him, but he refused to turn and look at her face. He didn't want her comfort. He didn't deserve it. But he was curious about what she was talking about.

"What do you mean?"

"I've never understood why people call them 'happy endings'. Happy or not an ending is final. It's the end. How could an ending ever be happy? It's the story, the journey taken, that's always far more interesting, far happier, than any ending I've ever heard of."

He didn't know what to say to that. A beautiful woman, a good woman, who hated the idea of happy endings? The idea was preposterous, even for a woman who was unlike any other he'd ever met. Who didn't want a happy ending? Perhaps someone who had never had to worry about having one.

"You read too many books," he dismissed as he sat back down at his wheel with his back to her. With any luck, she'd take the hint and leave.

"Do you need anything?" she asked kindly. "Tea? Dinner?"

"No. Nothing."

He heard her footsteps behind him, heading for the stairs and was ready to breathe his sigh of relief when she left, but instead of hearing her steps fade on the stairs, they stopped. She paused at the top, and he was just about to summon the courage to ask her to leave again when he heard her footsteps again. But this time, instead of leaving, they walked deeper into his tower. He watched over his shoulder, glancing at her sideways as she pulled the candle free from its hiding place. She grabbed another one that he had burning and used a bit of wood to set the candle blazing once more. Then he watched as she bent over, pulled one of the roses she'd brought for him out and laid it delicately atop Baelfire's shawl. And then, without another word, she left him to his memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty straight forward scene. We saw it in 3x11. It's been a few years since I edited this section in Moments and played around with the timeline but I believe I ended up putting it here, in the middle of the Belle going to town drama, because it helped that period to feel a little bit more established. Like her going to the market was such a commonplace thing it didn't even warrant discussion anymore. And, frankly, so that it wouldn't feel like she was give then responsibility and immediately she was taken advantage of so it was taken away. This scene here just sort of broke things up nicely in their story and gave them this nice piece of peace.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm happy you are so far enjoying these Rumbelle Moments, this chapter is a good one to remind you to really savor them while you've got them. I really do love this scene, and this chapter. It was interesting writing it from Belle's perspective, but I think I like it better from his perspective. It allows us to get into his head a little bit more and that's really important. I want us to see him on his good days, but I think the darkness needs to be acknowledged too. Peace and Happy Reading!


	157. What He Felt

Simple things were beginning to have an effect on him. Little things that he found Belle did for him were beginning to drive him crazy, and not in a bad way. Fantasizing about her was one thing. Noticing her beauty, craving her body; it was a male human thing that he could easily dismiss. Enjoying their conversations and her company was something he could just as easily explain away after years of solitude without a friend in the world. But what came after Baelfire's birthday, the thoughts that followed that terrible night were not as easy to dismiss or explain.

He began to wonder what it would be like to kiss her.

And not in the way that he'd imagined it in his fantasies, which was always hot and heavy and filled with desire and passion. Those things were not absent in what he imagined now, but what he was thinking about wasn't about sex or relieving any kind of need that he felt. No, he was wondering about what it would be like to kiss her, to touch her in normal everyday moments. He was wondering how it would be to show her, remind her regularly how he felt about her not with words but with actions. What he felt...what the hell was it that he felt?!

This new phase had started when she'd left him that night with Baelfire, just after she'd lit the candle on the altar again. For one brief moment, before she'd slipped through his fingers, he'd wondered what it would be like to reach for her hand, to smooth his thumb over the back of her knuckles, then draw her down to him for a kiss. But not one that led to any kind of sexual fantasy, just one that acknowledged his gratitude. A kiss that told her he was hurting, but reassured her he was alright; he just needed to feel the hurt for a while. Then she would wrap her arms around his shoulders and let his head fall onto her stomach in a simple embrace before she left him once more to his mourning. He wondered what it would be to be with her in a way that invited such touches, where she might reach out and touch his shoulders just to let him know she was there. What it might be like on just an average ordinary day to catch her by the waist, kiss her firmly on the mouth, and then let her go back to her chores as if such exchanges were common or typical between them.

Thoughts like that were deadly. But perhaps even more deadly was the curiosity he suddenly had concerning what she thought of him. Suddenly he found himself wondering what, if anything, she felt for him. If this friendship they'd been developing was how she treated everyone she knew or if it was limited to him. And worst of all, he wondered if she ever went to bed at night and thought of him the way that he thought of her. If she had urges to touch and kiss the same way that he did.

The problem, of course, was her eyes. It wasn't her body, perfect as it was, or her voice, intoxicating as her conversations could be. It was the fact that he'd never known eyes like hers. Soft and yet sharp at the same time. They were friendly, and yet with the right look they cut him right down to the bone, leaving him feeling like all that he was was bared and shaking in the cold as she found the heart he was certain had died long ago made it beat again. It was a problem. Just as it always had been.

The trouble was that now he was having a hard time staying away from her. He still managed when he had to. He left during the week, went out and conducted his business, checked in on the necessary players in his games; but even when he was gone or busy she filled up his senses. He brought her books from the places he'd gone and delighted in her guessing at where he'd been and what he'd been doing. And then there were times like last night, when he'd come back from his trip and sought her out to inform her...he'd found her asleep in her tower instead. His mind had wandered. Again. What would it be like to sit at her side, to brush his fingers over her cheek, to wake her with a kiss? Would her eyes light up when she saw he was back? And, just like that, just when he started feeling like she was washed from his system, she infected him all over again just by being alseep! He'd only just barely managed to drape a blanket over her to keep her warm for the night and escape before he dared to try it. She was like a drug, nearly as effective as magic at making him feel complete inside. It was hard to ignore that and getting harder day by day to deny he was growing attached to her. Just as it was hard to deny how unhappy he was when it was her day to go to the market.

She'd been late to breakfast that morning, a good thing since it left her no room to ask him about the blanket she must have noticed she woke up with. Unfortunately for him, she was not late in getting her things together and preparing to go to town. The castle would be quiet in her absence; quiet and cold.

"Belle," he called out when he arrived in the foyer. He found her in the same place he did every week: the Great Room, struggling with the clasp for her cloak, just as she did nearly every week.

"Oh, there you are!" he smiled, wondering if she knew that this run-in was becoming a weekly occurrence. Did she know he wanted to see her off? Or did she just assume that he wanted to check to make sure her clasp was on correctly? "And so near the front door planning on leaving me?!"

"You know I wouldn't do that, Rumpelstiltskin," she sighed.

"No, certainly not, at least not while wearing that fastener."

"Don't be so dramatic," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I'm just going to the market down the road. Unless you start spinning straw into meals, I still need food to cook with."

Oh, he was itching to correct her, so much so that he didn't even know where to begin! Should he remind her that he would have been happy to deliver food to her once more? That the market was not just 'down the road' but the mountain? The only thing that managed to keep his mouth shut was the fact that as he watched her struggle, there was something else he was itching to do, and it had nothing to do with conversation.

Before he could even question if he could ever be so bold, his fingers got the better of him, and he'd done it. He'd reached out, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, let himself get close enough to smell her hair, feel her muscles tighten at his presence, and her heart race…and then fastened the clasp properly. Her reaction to him fascinated him. She never pulled away, never acted as though she didn't want to touch him, but he could feel her surprise when he did. Was that excitement he heard in her heart? Or just a trick of his mind? What else could it be?

"Don't forget," he let himself whisper in her ear, "that fastener is enchanted. If you wander off, I'll know." Better yet, if something bad happened to her again, he would know immediately and be able to find her. She was safe.

"I made a promise to stay with you forever," she muttered back with just a hint of bite in her tone. "And I hope that someday you'll realize I'm a woman of my word."

"We'll see about that…"

He finally got the clasp to cooperate. It snapped perfectly into place for him and just on instinct, as he might have done with his son, he let his hands linger over her shoulders to smooth out the fabric before him. That was when she finally moved. She took a small step away and faced him, but didn't move out of his grasp, allowing him to keep his hands on her shoulders. She was a vision. The question he had to ask himself was what kind of vision was she. The present kind that he could admire for making the simplest of cloaks seem fitting for a queen? Or the future kind that he should be avoiding? What was the chance she was both? He moved quickly to pull the hood at her back up and over her hair, letting his fingers brush against her cheeks. She blushed. He might have if he wasn't…

If he wasn't this.

"Now, don't catch cold out there," he warned, pulling his hands quickly away from her and taking a few steps back. She was the present version of a vision. And if he was questioning that, then he was starting to let his fantasies get in the way of reality. Perhaps a little too much in the way. "The forest path is quite damp. We wouldn't want an illness interfering with your daily chores, would we?"

She smiled and shook her head with a small chuckle. "Definitely not," she chuckled gently before reaching for the basket at her feet. "We both know this place would fall into disrepair without me."

He let out his own chuckle as he opened the door for her. "I survived centuries before you, dearie, and I'll survive centuries after."

But he felt an ache in his chest even as he said those words. Worse, as she exited out the door and made her way down the steps, he'd caught her muttering something that he was certain he wasn't meant to hear. "Are you sure about that, Rumpelstiltskin?"

No. He wasn't. In fact, he was positive that what he'd told her was a lie and what she'd said was the truth. Without her, this castle was…well…it was dark. It always would be the Dark Castle, but with her around there was light and life and he found that he'd adjusted well to that in these last few months. How he would ever survive the loss of her…that wasn't something he should allow himself to think about.

He needed to get his head on straight. He needed to stop doing this, to stop letting her into his mind as he was. He needed to figure out a way to end what he was feeling. What he was feeling…

Just down the road, he saw her stop. She turned, glanced back at him and even though she was so distant he couldn't see her eyes, he felt his heart stop as she raised a hand and waved at him. He didn't return the gesture as she turned to go.

He was feeling things again. For a woman. What it was he was feeling didn't matter so much as the fact that he was simply feeling something for someone else other than his son. He hadn't done that in ages, not since Cora.

Cora…

He really needed to figure out what to do about this before it became the problem Cora had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a pretty fun chapter. Again, we're in the thick of it here, the Rumbelleiest of the Rumbelle chapters. We know he's in love. I think on some level even he knows at this point he just doesn't want to admit it. You can see that he's failing in everything he's tried with her. He can't stay away, he can't touch her, and I think the real kicker is that he's essentially just imagining himself being tender and in love that is probably the most dangerous thing. But he does realize that it's bad and ultimately I think that's what's going to lead to their downfall. We should be starting to see how it's all going to fall apart in his mind by this point.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments. True story, these chapters were fun to write because they required a bit of creativity. After all, these scenes don't come from a "seen scene", they come from a still comic book drawing. I found it was nice because it allowed a little bit of flexibility with motions. Likewise, with the words, because all we see is text, it allows me to imagine what they sound like and add a line or two here and there in an acceptable place. If you've never read these chapters before, I hope you like them! Peace and Happy Reading!


	158. The Problem of Belle

He needed to figure out what to do about Belle before she became the problem Cora had been. But Belle wasn't like Cora. Not one bit. His history with Cora left a foul taste in his mouth that persisted even to this day. But Belle…Belle was exceptional. Belle wanted none of what Cora ever wanted. She was a woman who had been in a place of power and comfort and had traded all of it in a heartbeat for the lives of those in her Kingdom, lives she didn't even know! Cora, on the other hand, had traded her heart for power and might. Though both women were hardworking, Cora had despised every second of her bone-breaking work. Belle seemed to thrive in it; asking to go to the market, for more work, was evidence of it. Cora longed to see herself on a throne. Belle longed to see the world.

But that didn't mean that Belle couldn't become the same problem that Cora had been. He truly doubted that she would ever be the same type of problem Cora was, but he was starting to see something else that disturbed him.

Those fantasies he'd had, the ones that he'd convinced himself he'd concocted all on his own, the result of male hormones driven wild…he was starting to doubt that he'd concocted them. It was in her behavior, but it was especially in his own behavior. All of a sudden, he was bold with her. Despite telling himself he needed distance, he found himself touching her, getting her gifts, wondering what life would be if there ever were more than they were now. He'd behaved that way with Cora, and if he was honest he'd behaved that way with Milah too in the beginning, when he was human. Both women had become distractions he couldn't afford to have in his life. He'd pursued them both and where had that gotten him? Nowhere. Misery. Devastation beyond anything he could ever have imagined. Hate.

Belle was nothing like his former paramours. He didn't think she had an evil bone in her body. Unlike Milah and Cora, there was nothing that hinted at an inner darkness or savagery that he might find if he got to know her better. But the scary thing was that he felt like he had already gotten to know her, potentially even more than he'd gotten to know Cora and Milah. And when he looked at her, and she looked back, he felt like she was seeing something inside of him that neither woman had ever seen, something that maybe even Baelfire hadn't seen. And he liked it. Whether because of fantasy or vision, he could see something stirring between them that wasn't just physical. He wished it was. It might be easier to dismiss if it was. The question was, now that he acknowledged it, what was he going to do about it.

He liked her. He could admit that. If nothing else, he liked the work she did and her presence in his life. He enjoyed her company. But that alone made her a distraction when getting back to Baelfire had to be his first and only goal. She wouldn't be the problem in anything going forward, rather it was the potential distraction she presented him with. He told himself he could ignore it. He could ignore her; he could hold himself in check! And yet, this morning when she'd left for the market, he'd touched her. Without thought and before he could catch himself, he reached out and touched her shoulders and even her face. All it would take was one touch to lead to another, and that was where a problem could arise; literally, if his nighttime fantasies were any indication.

But what to do about it?! He knew the answer. He knew what this was going to come down to, he just didn't like it. Every day she was here was another day of attachment. It was another day to allow his attraction to bind him tighter to her. Every day made it harder for him to imagine this place without her walking the halls. And the danger of sending her away. How would he do it? He was almost certain, knowing her that she wouldn't go back to her family. But where would she go? If he left her out into the world alone, there were plenty of dangers that awaited her. The Queens of Darkness were proof people would use her to get to him, if she wasn't here or somewhere else that he knew about, then he couldn't promise that he could keep her safe. But if he found her other arrangements, another home, there was no telling if he'd be able to stay away. If he missed her too much then he might retrieve her. If she missed him...

It was a problem.

But then…so was the little jump he felt in his belly and the smile that spread over his face when he felt her enter back into the castle grounds. He was happy she was home. The knowledge of it made his heart race with joy and relief and then…

Panic.

She wasn't alone.

"Rumpelstiltskin," he heard her cry as he materialized inside the foyer and threw open the doors to find her.

She wasn't alone, but she wasn't in danger either. Trailing behind her, he saw that she pulled a cart of some kind. Inside the cart there was a body; a heartbeat aside from hers and his own. It was alive. But the smell of infection, magic, and sap from other doctors trying to heal him reached his nose so that it wrinkled. Alive, but not by much, it seemed. And what did she think she was doing? Bringing home a stray like this? Did she expect to heal him? There was magic already on him, clearly some other wizard had already tried. The man was nothing to him, why should he bother to do it?! Just when he was starting to think she could do no wrong!

"I need your help!" she cried, coming to a stop at the stairs.

"Please tell me it doesn't have anything to do with the cart of rotting flesh behind you!"

"Rumple!" she gasped setting down her load and running back to the cart to try and rouse the starkly white man. It was an innocent maneuver, one that required her to put her arms around him and try to set him up. She touched his chest and back and his shoulders and he felt jealousy surge through him. He didn't like it when she touched him. Not when a touch like that was what he craved. "He's badly wounded," she exclaimed. "He may die!"

Fine with him; they'd see if she was so eager to touch him then.

"I seem to remember that you went out to buy food, yet you return with a stranger. Do you expect me to eat him?"

That was the wrong joke to make. The glare she gave him as she set the boy back down in the cart threatened to make him shiver. He hated when she did that.

"He's not a stranger to me!" she snapped. "And your magic is the only thing that might be able to heal him. Please! We can send him on his way as soon as he's better."

Not a stranger to her? She knew him? That was why she was so comfortable putting her hands on him? Because she had some experience with him before? What kind? And why did it bother him so much if she managed to save him? This was exactly the kind of thing he'd worried about when he decided to send her to the market! That she might meet someone who would spark her interest or take her away, and there was no benefit in that for him.

"And why should I assist this? What do I get out of it?" he dismissed, using a tone that he usually reserved for making deals. He'd long since abandoned such speech with her, but if this didn't qualify as making a deal, he didn't know what would.

"Nothing…" she breathed. She opened her mouth to speak again, but at that moment, their conversation was interrupted by the boy she'd brought with her. He hadn't woken, but he let out a miserable sounding groan that made him cringe, not because he was hurt, but because he almost sounded like he was faking it. For heaven's sake, he'd walked hundreds of miles on a broken ankle in his time and hadn't made such noises. This was…what…an infection, by the smell of it? And he was passed out in a cart, while Belle looked after him? What did he have to moan and groan about?

He rolled his eyes. But Belle fell for the noises. He clenched his jaw as she swooped back down the stairs to tend to him. She picked up a rag of some sort and wiped his brow so tenderly it made him want to punch someone or break something.

"But it's the right thing to do!" Belle finally finished, glancing down at him with fucking tears in her eyes that made him so angry he wanted to-

"What have you done to this rag?!" she shrieked.

He hadn't meant to make a scene. For a brief second, he'd merely had the wish that he would have liked to remove the cloth from her hands so she would stop fawning over him, and in the next second, it was in his hands. He hadn't lost control of his magic like that in a century.

"I was just trying to make a point!" he covered, looking at it and sneering. He didn't know what kind of diseases were attached to it, but it had touched the boy's face, and he wanted so badly to burn it. "Already, my belongings are being rendered into filthy wrecks!"

Apparently, that was also not the right thing to say. The moment the words were out of his mouth her jaw dropped open and then she was storming up the stairs, her feet pounding so hard that he thought her own legs might crack. She flew at him so fast he wasn't sure she was going to stop and took a step back from her in fear.

"You are being awful!" she yelled. "I won't just stand here and do nothing while you play games and let him die!"

"All right!" he shouted back before she could become even more unhappy. "Bring him in then, I won't help him, but I won't snuff out his breath either. If he dies, he dies, we'll let fate decide, shall we?"

She wasn't exactly happy with that answer either, but he'd given her at least most of what she wanted, so he didn't think she was likely to argue with him. He turned to go back inside and put some distance between them-

"Rumpelstiltskin, wait!" she cried out. He glanced over his shoulder, returning his attention to her. As if his attention wasn't always on her these days…

She was standing by the cart, her hands back around the boy's torso, she was pulling so hard that she was turning red, and when the wind drove the smell of the infection back to him, he realized that there was a reason he didn't want her touching him that much. Her life was mortal, fleeting. If she caught sick and died, he would never forgive himself.

"Please," she cried. I can't move him. He needs a clean bed and rest and I can't-"

One second he was there and the next he was gone, but this time it was on purpose. In a plume of smoke the boy was no longer by her side but rather in one of the upstairs bedrooms. It was a small one, nothing fancy, but it was still bright and sunny enough to satisfy her so that she wouldn't feel the need to move him again; anything to keep her from touching him like that again.

"I believe you'll find him in one of the second-floor bedrooms you've insisted on cleaning out," he responded to settle her shocked face. Immediately she sighed as relief coursed over her features. She nodded and quickly scurried up the steps back into the castle, but when she passed by him, he extended his arm and caught her again. He touched her, grabbed her was perhaps more accurate a word, but he noted that he hadn't had to apply much pressure to get her to stop and listen. And her arm…he'd caught her just at the elbow. He'd grabbed enough people in his lifetime to know when the touch was unwanted, to know the feeling of fear and dissatisfaction. Her skin stayed soft, her muscles didn't tense, and she didn't step away, not even when he took a step closer to her. It was almost as if she wanted his touch.

"Use your time to nurse the lost puppy wisely," he whispered in her ear. "I'll still expect your chores to be done, including dinner at its appropriate time."

She breathed for a couple of heartbeats, long enough for him to move his thumb over the little knob on her arm before she nodded. Good. They understood each other.

That wasn't shocking, he was beginning to think they understood each other better than anyone ever had.

With a flash of magic, he summoned a basket that had revealed itself in the cart the moment he sent the boy away. Food. At least she'd managed to remember that.

"You left this in the cart," he muttered, sliding it up her arm and into the bend in her elbow.

"It-it'll be ready in time. You'll enjoy it, I promise," she breathed. Then she glanced up at him, big beautiful eyes beneath perfect dark lashes. And he was suddenly aware of just how close she was. So close he could feel her breath against his chest where his shirt was open. Inches. There was a mere few inches between her mouth and his, and it would be so easy to lean down and see what it would really be like to kiss her instead of just thinking about it.

Just do it!

"I have to check on Samuel," she finally muttered, pulling away so that her arm and her mouth were out of reach again. The motion left him feeling dizzy. He felt as though he'd just jumped into a lake of ice the feeling was so sobering.

"Thank you, for letting Samuel stay…thank you."

Samuel…who was Samuel?

She moved away from him and dashed up the stairs reminding him exactly who this Samuel person was.

It was the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a couple of fun things that I wanted to put on display here. The first part of this chapter is meant to showcase his circular logic where Belle is concerned. I wanted it to seem like he's arguing with himself. I wanted it to sound like he's saying "hey, Belle could be a problem like Cora" and then have himself argue all the ways that she's not a problem. But still come back and say "well, she could be a problem this way" and then have him argue why that's not really a problem. Then still conclude "yeah but she could still be a problem." It's supposed to show that he is simultaneously winning and losing his own arguments. Readers digest, he's really conflicted when it comes to Belle. Also, other thing I really wanted to showcase here, I wanted to add a new layer to their relationship: jealousy. He feels jealous of her attention to Samuel. I liked incorporating that in there because I really didn't want to show that when he first met her with Gaston. It was too soon for something like that. But here, now...it seems like a good thing to take advantage of.
> 
> Big thank yous going out to RolfB and Jenigweve for your continued comments. I'm glad you enjoyed that last chapter. Of course, I'm hoping you'll enjoy this one and the next couple as well. If you've read Moments or "Truth and Daggers" then you know there is a need to excuse Rumple from Belle's storyline for a bit. I think you'll like what I did with Rumple in that time. I used that excuse to help close out another storyline of my own making that has been left "open" for a little while now. That's one of the main focuses in these next two chapters so get ready for something unexpected! Peace and Happy Reading!


	159. A Test of Priorities

Samuel was the boy's name. That was one mystery solved. But how Belle knew him or where he was from was an utter mystery to him. Had he not been careful enough? Had she met him in the market? Did she know him from her other life? What were they doing together alone in that room?

He paced his tower incessantly, unable to work, unable to think so long as she remained alone wit him. When he'd passed by the door to her room, there had been no noise coming out of it. No moaning or groaning. But the door was closed, he couldn't see inside unless he resigned himself to using magic and he just couldn't do it. He'd told himself that he wouldn't long ago, and he hadn't. However, he had to admit that he was sorely tempted now.

Instead, he settled for spending some time in his own room instead of the tower. There, he was at least close to where Belle was so that he could hear if anything untoward happened, and she needed help. He worked at his wheel and listened carefully to the sounds that he heard down the hall. Rummaging. Sounds of pain, male pain. Water dripping into a bowl. Two heartbeats. They were both slow. On occasion, he heard the door to the room open and close, which was followed by quick shuffling. The heartbeat that remained behind was always slow and weak, and that was all he needed to tell him the story. Belle was leaving the room, Samuel, whoever he'd been, was left behind. She did that for the majority of the afternoon. Enter his room, spend some time, leave, return; leave again, come back in a few minutes, wait for hours. Up until the last time. Finally, right around dinner time, he heard her leave the room. This time she hadn't returned. Not a few minutes later, not thirty minutes later. She'd gone down to make him dinner.

Him? Or them? Dinner for the pair of them? Or for Samuel?

It was out of spite that he didn't move her chair that night, some kind of strange male need he had to put her to some kind of test. Not one of loyalty or love or even friendship. Well...maybe it was. Perhaps he honestly wasn't sure what it was about. All he knew was that she was properly surprised when she brought him dinner and looked at the table. He dared to hope…was that a hint of disappointment in her gaze?

"I assume as I've seen no evidence of miraculous healing, you'll be spending more time with your charge," he mentioned casually. He was trying to sound as offhand as possible, as if it didn't matter to him and his presence in this castle was nothing.

When she sighed with relief, he felt his chest tighten. Pain. He felt pain, but it was a pain like he hadn't experienced in his life before, one that he couldn't identify.

"I'd…I'd like that, yes," she answered practically running forward to drop his food in front of him. "If…if you don't mind, of course."

"Mind?!" he dismissed too loudly for as close as she was standing. "What does it matter to me, so long as the dishes get done and breakfast gets made?"

But he did mind. He wasn't sure why he would say he didn't mind when all he wanted to hear her say was that she was going to sit down and have dinner with him like always before returning to her boy. But she didn't. He looked about for a moment, avoiding her gaze, trying to focus on the meal that she'd left before him, when a strange movement drew his attention back to her. She was kneeling. Down at the side of his chair, she knelt down so that he couldn't escape her gaze as easily as before. His breath caught as warmth spread over the hand just at his knee. It was her hand. She held her hand against his. This time it wasn't him touching her but her reaching out to touch him. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to respond. It took only a touch to render him speechless! He should be embarrassed. Why did he want to revel in it?

"Thank you for understanding how much he needs me," she whispered. Then she quickly rose to her feet once more and took the tray with two more bowls of soup on it out of the room. She left him behind with only the imprint of her fingers on the back of his hand and the racing of his heart.

He spent the night in his room, listening, just as he had throughout the previous day for anything that he could hear. But the truth was that there was nothing out of the ordinary. The sound of two calm heartbeats, the door opening and closing as Belle came and went throughout the night, never sleeping or else sleeping very little, on occasion he heard the turn of a page or the opening of a book, but there was very little conversation to be heard by the time the sun rose and-

Something was happening!

Not in Belle's room, but in his own head.

_He saw a flash of a familiar book, the one that he'd seen the boy with. He saw the boy with it now, in the woods, standing alone with it still cradled to his chest. In his vision, the boy look back over his shoulder at his parents, a small campsite spread out in a vast field. He saw the book flip open under his own hands and then…_

_A bright sun. It hovered high in the sky, unmoving and warm. He was sitting on a cliff of some kind, admiring it from a chair. He could feel a smile on his face, feel his mouth moving with conversation._

_His hand felt warm._

_"Go now!"_ the Seer commanded in his head. _"Or else all will be lost."_

It was a brief vision, one of the shorter ones he'd ever experienced, but it's meaning was clear. Now was the time! The boy and his family, in his vision they'd arrived at their new home in King George's Kingdom! If the Seer was right, and she always was, the boy was about to wander into the forest, with the book, alone! That was a chance he'd been waiting on for too long to ignore it!

And it couldn't have come at a worse time!

He was up in his tower, retrieving the small corner of the blanket he'd cut free, preparing to go when he remembered he had to tell Belle. And when he remembered he had to tell Belle, he remembered that she wasn't alone. Their…guest. He wasn't comfortable with this. He wasn't comfortable leaving her here alone with someone that he didn't know, someone who should have died by now but obviously hadn't. Belle was innocent; smart, but naïve. He didn't like not being here to protect her if it was required.

 _"Go now!"_ the Seer screamed at him with urgency.

Fuck!

Either go, leave Belle alone, and retrieve the book. Or stay, continue listening to the weak heartbeat of a dying man and lose his chance, all for a paranoid fear. She was innocent and naïve, but she wasn't stupid. If something happened, if she needed help, she knew how to summon him. And besides, she still had her cloak, and he'd never removed the clasp. If there was danger or he tried to force her out, she'd think to use it.

He growled as he pocketed the square of the blanket and practically ran down the stairs to where she was staying with him. He paused outside the door and listened, but there was nothing that he hadn't heard before. Two heartbeats, one weak one strong, the sound of pages turning, her own breathing…he was being paranoid. She'd do fine on her own for a while.

With that, and an ever-growing urgency from the Seer, he knocked on the door. "Belle!" he called, just so that he could listen to the heartbeat of the man. It registered his call, increasing ever so slightly with surprise, but quickly fell back into line by the time she opened the door…and nearly took his breath away all over again. The way the light came in through the windows behind her and struck her hair, even if it was unbrushed and she had dark circles beneath her eyes, she was so beautiful he wished he could paint a portrait…right after he got home.

"I'm glad you aren't too busy with your guest to at least show your face when I call for you," he muttered when she answered the door. Her heart was racing, her eyes were wide. He'd meant to startle the boy, he hadn't meant to scare her too. "Although I must confess…" he sighed, taking a glance behind her into the room to find the boy still laid out on the bed, freshly bandaged and books scattered about the room. Typical Belle. "I wouldn't have extended him my hospitality if I'd know how long it would take him to die."

"Samuel's not going to die!" she snapped at him, her heart still racing. "In fact, his fever broke."

Poor thing, had she gotten any sleep at all? A fever breaking on one as sick as the boy was no easy feat. Didn't she know that she couldn't take care of the boy if she didn't look after herself? If he wasn't healed by the time he returned, perhaps he'd do it himself just to send the child on his way and let her rest. Then they could get back to their life, however meager it was. That was certainly something that benefited him.

 _"Go now!"_ the Seer screamed with such violence he winced. It was a good reminder of what he was really here for. It wasn't to admire her beauty in the morning sun.

"Thanks to your expert touch, no doubt. Although fevers have been known to return. Hopefully, this little drama will soon be played out. In the meantime, the castle is yours, Belle. I have some business to attend to tonight and shan't be back until first light."

Her jaw dropped in surprise that seemed completely unnecessary given how often he left her, but then a moment later, she smiled. "Then I suppose we'll see you in the morning!" she nodded, turning back to look over her shoulder at the boy. "Ah, good luck, doing whatever it is you do!"

_"Now!"_

As much as he wanted to see what it was that had drawn her attention back into the room, the Seer left him with no choice but to leave right then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler? Mmm...kinda...I'd say it could also qualify as a bit of set up for early into season two. We start to see his protective nature coming to life here and how it can sort of overwhelm him. The fact that at the end of the day this encounter ends badly is one of the reasons (though certainly not the only reason) why I think he sort of keeps her underwraps and away from people once the Curse breaks in Storybrooke. Does that need a spoiler alert?
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Here we can also of course see which storyline we are going to close out! Ready for Rumple to revisit Little Jack Horner? He's coming up next in one of those "handful of chapters" that I told you doesn't involve Belle. But don't skip over it. I actually really like that chapter. It's cute. It's Rumple at his best! Peace and Happy Reading!


	160. Child's Play

The woods on the edge of King George's land were vast. Hiding himself within them was not exactly an ideal way to locate the child, but he hadn't wanted to simply appear before the boy and startle him. It wasn't ideal, but he had a plan. From within his pocket, he pulled out the scrap of cloth that he'd cut from the boy's blanket as well as a tracking potion. He poured it over the blanket and watched as it glowed dimly. He was close, but not very.

He spent the morning hiking through dense brush, watching the cloth in his hand fade and then glow again as he got off track and then back on again nearly half a dozen times. It was well past afternoon, right around the time that he would have sat down with Belle for tea time when he saw the forest ahead of him begin to clear and heard voices. The blanket glowed strong in the palm of his hand. He was very close. So close that when he pulled back the limb of a tree in front of him, he saw what he'd hiked miles for.

A campsite. Not a portable or temporary one shared by dozens of people and hastily thrown together for a single night. No, this was a legitimate, livable campsite; nothing fancy, a campfire, a few tents for parents and child, pots, pans, tools, wooden crates that held all the family owned now. It reminded him of the site he and his father had when he was a boy and the roof had caved in. He wouldn't have wanted to live in it forever, but it was acceptable for a length of time.

The boy's family had purchased land. How much of this field actually belonged to them now he couldn't tell, and it wasn't his problem. But for the next few months, potentially a year, the family was bound to use resources from this forest to build a permanent home and start their lives. That meant months sleeping outside in tents, in the elements. Was he to trust a child to take care a book that long? Not in a million years.

He located the family. They stood a fair distance from him. Mother and father were holding a conversation with a familiar man who stood by a familiar cart. Clopin. They must have been the last he delivered. Thus why they were taking their time…

The boy was the indicator, he stood by his parents, shuffling and wiggling about as small children often did. The book was in his hands. He watched as the boy tried to get his parent's attention, tugged at their sleeves, whined at his mother, started to run circles around them as they talked on and on until finally his father put a stop to it.

"Jake, mummy and I are talking, go play in the woods," he suggested with strained patience. The boy whined but listened to his father. And he prepared to set his trap.

Deal making was all about making himself into what the individual wanted. He'd made deals with people of every age, gender, and race in his time, though he would openly admit that those deals he'd made with children were few; deals concerning children he had in abundance, but with children…his experience was limited to a handful. Still, he had enough experience with children that he felt confident about what he was about to do. He'd given himself until tomorrow morning to fetch his book, but as he saw little Jacob enter the wood, book clutched to his chest as he looked behind him at his parents, he was suddenly excited that he might be home by dinner. Perhaps this time around Belle would eat with him.

He sat down on a log a short distance away from the boy, one that he would see any moment now. He made sure that he sat at the lowest part of the log, putting himself as eye level to the child as he could be, and he made sure to relax his legs and his back. He slouched a little, giving the impression that he was tired. He let his elbows rest on his knees and let his hands hang together, giving the impression that he was approachable. He did consider, briefly changing his appearance, using a glamour to hide the curse of the Dark One. But the boy had already seen him once before. There was little point in pretending to be someone he wasn't.

The boy gasped and froze the moment he rounded the corner and saw him sitting there. This was the most delicate of all his meetings. The boy was obviously scared and surprised, but he couldn't let him become fearful and run back to his parents. This was the third time they'd encountered one another. Any other attempts to get the book wouldn't be as clean as this.

"At last, I see a friendly face. One that I recognize," he stated in a low hushed tone so that he wouldn't scare him. He hadn't hidden his face, but he wanted to seem as normal and sympathetic as he possibly could. He wanted to appear as a father figure, someone welcoming and trustworthy.

The boy swallowed, he hadn't wanted to scare him, but he was shaking. Still, he didn't run away. Brave boy. "You…you know me?" he asked in a small voice. "I'm not supposed to talk to people I don't know."

"But you do know me. Don'tcha, lad?"

The boy's eyes filled with tears, and his chin trembled. The grip he had on his book was suddenly so tight his fingers turned white. Fear was bad. he didn't want fear he wanted trust.

"Oh, there's no reason for that. No reason at all. I'm here because you have something I want, child."

"The…the way to help you," he said in a small voice.

"That's right," he smiled. "That's exactly right. You're a smart boy, to figure it out all by yourself. And brave too. Most little boys would have run away by now, but not you. No, you're different, aren't you?"

He watched as the boy swallowed, never taking his eyes off of him, but he did notice he seemed to stand a little taller. "My book…it says you're a bad man."

"But that's not all it says, is it lad?"

The boy loosened his grip on the book a bit. He looked down at the cover, and when he looked back up at him, he shook his head.

"What a smart boy you are. Tell me, child, what else does your book say?"

"It says…it says you can be good again."

"Does it?" he questioned. He'd meant to sound curious, but in the end, it wasn't hard to try. He was curious. Very, very curious about all the secrets that lay in that book of his; especially when the boy nodded in response. He smiled again. "Well that makes me very happy, young man, very happy indeed. You see, your book is right. I am a bad person, but…I've wanted to be good again for so long."

"You can be!" the boy exclaimed, his eyes widening with a new interest that reminded him of Belle. He took a step closer with the book in hand. "It says right here that you can!"

"But not if I don't know how…"

He was a smart child indeed, for the moment he'd said those words he swallowed whatever words he'd meant to say to him and looked down at his book. He knew what he wanted. He just had to get him to hand it over. And he was quiet certain he knew the way. One that didn't involve thievery or bloodshed, one that might let the boy keep a sense of pride as he grew. Not to mention one that would leave him feeling like a hero for years to come.

"Yes. You have all the secrets, secrets I need to be good again. And I have something that your family needs. Take a look…"

He stood up slowly, making an effort to keep his back hunched and his gate considerate so that the boy could follow him to the edge of the tree line. He did follow. And when he did he pulled aside a branch and the pair of them looked out over the green fields that his family had just purchased and would call their home for the next few years until the curse struck. He might not have a lot of time here, but he could make sure that whatever time he did have was good.

"You see, in this land value is not in knowledge, but in gold. Here, take another look."

He knelt down on one knee, coming down to his level once more just as he used to do with Baelfire and pulled a small leather satchel from his pocket. He opened the drawstring and let the golden coins fall out into his hand. He wiggled his fingers beneath them so that they would catch the little light they had and shimmer. The boy was mesmerized.

"Do you know what this could do for your family, lad? There's enough here to buy a house, some toys, a few sheep-"

"Or a pie?!" he asked, suddenly very excited. Children…

"Even a pie, yes!"

The boy sighed and looked down at the coins longingly. "I've always wanted to taste plum pie."

"It can be yours…but I need that book."

The boy stared down at his book, then looked back at the gold he held out for him. He made a motion that had his heart racing, for a second he was sure he was going to hand the book over! But then the boy pulled away, and took a step back with a small gasp. If it wasn't for the fact that the only heartbeat he could hear in the wood was the boy's he'd have thought his parents stumbled upon them.

"Is this a…deal?" he asked, looking down at his book. "The book says you make deals and it's bad."

"Oh, no!" he assured him. "No, deals aren't bad. You know what a deal is, don't you?" The boy shook his head. "A deal is an agreement. When two people both have something the other wants, deals can always be made. Now you…you've always wanted to taste a plum pie. And I…I want to be good again so badly. I want the secret your book has. So we'll make a deal. I'll give you the coins for your pie, and you'll give me the book so that I can be good again. If we agree to those terms, then we shake hands like men. You'll give me the book, and I'll give you the coins. So…" he reached out his empty hand into the space between them. "Do you agree? Do we have a deal?"

He would have been happy if he'd agreed a little faster, if he hadn't stood there and stared for as long as he did. But all that mattered in the end was that he stepped forward, timidly put his small hand in his own, and shook it.

"My oh my what a good boy are you," he muttered excitedly. "Good lad." When he let go he hustled the coins in his hand back into the small bag that he'd brought and tossed it at the forest floor, the empty space between them, almost directly below the spot that they'd just shaken hands. "That's for you. Now, you set your book down…that's very good," he smiled as the boy set it beside the bag of coins and then reached out to take the satchel. "Good. Perfectly handled," he whispered. The moment the boy stepped back he scooped the book up into his own hands. "Good boy, very good. Now we go our separate ways with our prizes. I can't thank you enough for being willing to trade with me. And I hope you get your pie, Jack."

"I hope…I hope it helps you."

"It will. Thank you, dear boy."

"You're welcome," he smiled just as he heard a female voice begin to call out.

"Run along and see to your parents now, eh?"

The boy nodded, a second later he turned and dashed away. The second his back was turned he went to the spot the boy had been and retrieved his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write for Rumple because it was all my own and I felt like I really got to get back into his head like we haven't for a while now. I think I said at the beginning that with 219 chapters I can't write every single deal that he makes every single day. I have to touch on the important stuff. Of course, he's making deals like this in the background, but right now the important stuff is the Rumbelle stuff so that is where we end up a lot of the time in this section. But this chapter, this deal and this book, they are all really important to the future in a big way that will soon be revealed. So we got to go into Rumple's head as he makes a deal. We get to see how he analyzes every single deal. How to sit, how to posture, how to sound, how to look, and that is fascinating to me.
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for your comments. I know this pulls away from the Rumbelleness, but I did tell you there were a few chapters that would do that. This is the last we see of Jack Horner. At least for now. I don't have any plans for him at the moment, but you never know when I need a character in a later fiction so never say never. I hope you liked the little references to his poem and I hope you like getting to see Rumple in "experienced parent mode", as I like to call it. The Rumbelle is back in the next chapter and we'll see the conclusion of Truth and Daggers as well as the last chapter to this storyline with the book soon enough. Peace and Happy Reading!


	161. While He Was Away

He returned home in a good mood. A triumphant mood! How long had he been trying to get the book he held in his hands?! Weeks? Closer to a month at this point! There were things that he'd bargained for that he'd waited a long time for and things he'd bargained for that he'd wanted only a couple of seconds, but no matter how long the wait or how great the desire he always felt like a burden had been lifted the second he arrived back in his tower with his prize. He felt like he'd accomplished something. He still felt that way. He felt triumphant and ecstatic, and he couldn't wait to tear into the book and see what it revealed…but he didn't want to do it now. That was different. In the past, he might have. In the past, he might very well have hidden himself up here for as long as he could, as long as he'd told Belle he would be gone, and pondered the depths of his discovery in peace and privacy.

But he didn't want that right now. What he wanted now, instead…oh that was quite a different story.

What he wanted was to celebrate. He felt charged and energetic. He felt like he could fly over the moon if he gathered enough energy, and in his mind's eye, he could see himself gather his pretty maid up in his arms, kiss her in jubilant celebration, and stay up all night reading the stories with her and figuring out their meaning.

But it was with the acknowledgment of that fantasy, that it died.

He couldn't let that happen.

He wanted it. He wanted the fantasy he saw in his head so badly! But it was just one more reminder of what he knew he should do. If he cared this much for her, he should set her free. If she was going to be that much of a distraction, that much of a risk to his future with Baelfire, he should send her far away. Perhaps if she managed to heal her friend…

He growled.

He knew what he wanted, and he knew why he had to send her off, but the idea of seeing her go free with her hands wrapped around the pale stranger's arm made him sneer in disgust. He wasn't going to let that happen. Free her he might, but to him…it wasn't something he would even consider.

Frankly, if the state he'd been in when he last saw him was any indication, it wasn't something he had to consider. With any luck, the boy was dead. He wouldn't mourn, but if he'd died on Belle's watch…

He forgot about the book, he set it aside and hurried down the tower stairs to surprise Belle and see what might have transpired while he'd been away. She was caring. If the man had died on her watch, she wasn't likely to take a loss like that well. The body would need to be dealt with. She would need taken care of. Everything else could wait until-

There were no heartbeats.

He'd barely walked out onto the second floor where the boy's room had been, and he already sensed it. No heartbeats. Not a single one. The floor was empty. He ran from the stairs to the room he'd placed the stranger in, his heart felt like it was in his throat and he was going to choke. If he'd hurt her in any way…

But the room was empty. He skidded to a stop just by the door and found it ajar. The sight inside was one of familiarity. It was practically exactly what he'd seen that morning over Belle's shoulder; bandages, books, sheets, the smell of infection and magic mingled together. But it was more than that. His books were there. Not many of them, but there were a few that he recognized from his tower that were now sitting out in the room. And of course, it was missing bodies. Everywhere there was evidence of a sick man and nursemaid, but the sick man and nursemaid were no where to be found.

Footsteps. Before he could panic again, he heard footsteps and a bang. He expanded his senses, opening himself up to the grounds as well as the castle and nearly cried when he found the two heartbeats. He might have stopped panicking entirely, except...something was wrong. The heartbeats were strong and rapid. Both of them. No one that was truly sick had a heartbeat that was "strong and rapid". They were here, somewhere. What were they doing?

He thought of Belle, and in the next moment, she was there. He was in the pantry of all places, looking down the long hall to the door that led outside at the other end. Belle stood at it now, leaned against it with all her weight despite the fact that the bar was lowered over it, holding it into place.

"Belle, what…this isn't a sanctum!" a voice yelled behind the door. "I'm outside! Damn it!"

"I know that too," he heard Belle confess through with a voice that suggested she was on the verge of tears. Anger roared inside of him. As the man began to beat against the door so that the wood moaned and groaned nearly as bad as he had when he'd first arrived. A fraud. He should have known the moment he smelled magic on him!

Magic…he could still sense magic. He could sense it now far more than he had before. On the other side of that door was strong dark magic. What had that boy gotten himself into? What had he brought into his home? He wanted it.

"Belle, have you gone mad?! What are you doing? Let me in!"

"Samuel…you need to leave. Right now," she ordered gently through the door. She was trying to sound stern, trying to impress fear upon him. But it never made it out that way. She was upset. And that made her attempt wholly unsuccessful. "If Rumpelstiltskin finds you out there…" he watched as she took a step away from the door. "I saved your life once. I can't promise that I'll be able to do it again. He's going to be especially unforgiving once he realizes what you intended to do to him."

Now there was an interesting piece of information…what had he tried to do to him? Better yet, what could the Dark One do to a foolish boy? He'd promised Belle he wouldn't end his life. He was going to keep that promise, but what was he to do with him in the meantime. He could think of several lovely options. All of which began with finding out exactly what kind of magic was behind that door.

"But how can you do this to me?" the boy asked, the top of his head suddenly visible through the window as he tried to get a glimpse at his maid. "We've been friends since we were children! Don't you want to come home to your father? His misses you so!"

Friends since childhood…that meant he wasn't a person that she'd met at the market. However, the mention of her father certainly made it seem like someone had been sent to bring her home. He watched her carefully, listened hard with eager anticipation of what she might have to say to such a thing. Did she want to go home? Should he let her?

"I made a promise! And I'm a woman of my word," she insisted, letting herself fall back against the wall. She didn't see him. He was a few feet away as she wrapped her arms around her belly and let tears cloud her vision, and she didn't see him. Just looked to the ceiling as she argued, trying hopelessly to save the boy's life once more, but this time by getting him to leave. "Besides, Rumpelstiltskin may be the Dark One, but he doesn't deserve to be tricked like this, and he certainly doesn't deserve to be trapped in a box for eternity!"

Trapped in a box for eternity! The voices of the Dark Ones within him roared in his ears, but he didn't need them to. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he was going to find behind that door, and he wasn't going to let it go! Just like he wasn't about to let her go. For one brief moment, the banging and the screaming all stopped. There was no movement at all. But in the next second, it came back with a fury, a vengeance and even a violence that hadn't been present before. He hated to think about what that boy, her "childhood friend" might do to her now if she let him in.

"Belle!" Samuel screamed smacking his palms against the window, throwing his shoulder into the wood, yelling at her over and over again so that she lost her footing and sank to the ground. "Please! Let me in! Belle!"

"Good-bye Samuel!" she managed to whisper, her voice cracking like she was going to dissolve into tears. His sentiments exactly.

Enough of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry, I know this is short but it didn't fit well with the last chapter and doesn't fit well with the next chapter. Rumple witnessing Belle being a faithful servant, a woman of her word, was something that had to be all on its own. I'm pleased with it and I hope you will be too.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. They are always very much appreciated. Even though this chapter is short I hope you'll at least like the way that we can see Rumple's priorities shifting in the beginning. Instead of wanting to examine his new toy, Belle is first on his mind. And of course, it's a struggle for him because he knows what he needs to do, I think he's sort of already decided at this point, but spending time with her and inviting her into his life is still becoming a prevalent thought like it's never been before. To see how he does with it, you'll have to journey on to the next chapter! Peace and Happy Reading!


	162. Repercussions of Chaos

Pandora's Box. So named for the witch it once housed. Originally a creation of Light Magic, made by none other than Pandora's sister, it was meant to house the evil witch until they could find a way to bind her magic. But Pandora's sister had made a mistake in casting the spells placed on the box. Instead of trapping Pandora, it had trapped her and absorbed her Dark Magic, giving the thing a mind of its own and a craving for the darker side of magic. These days it could be used to trap almost any dark foe desired but only one at a time. It wasn't an object that he'd ever sought out actively for he knew it wasn't entirely necessary for the curse that was coming, but he did want it. He wanted it for the same reason he'd wanted Beowulf's sword so long ago. If magic like that had to exist, he'd rather it be in his hands than anyone else's. A box like Pandora's would need special protection being so close to him, just like the urn the Queen of Arendelle was currently housed in, but he could make sure that the proper precautions were taken.

It took only a single wave of his hand to summon the magic that he felt behind the door into his tower, he'd explore what he'd found later and confirm whether or not it was what he thought it was. He had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Well, well, well," he announced, applauding slowly and feeling guilty for every clap. When she looked up at him, it was apparent that she felt awful about what had happened. She was unhappy and he could easily see why, but it was for those very reasons that he felt as though he could have turned night into day! He couldn't be sure about what transpired here in the hours he was away, but no matter what it was, she obviously hadn't needed him to help her. She'd kicked her "friend" out all on her own. And what she'd said to him with the door between them, how she'd defended him…he felt so much prouder than he'd ever known he could feel. If he allowed himself to take this as seriously as the situation demanded, he might just cry, or worse…he might truly sweep her up into his arms as he'd wanted to earlier and work harder than he ever had to make her tears disappear.

"What an opportune time for me to return home. I had the chance to see some of what transpired with your 'friend.'"

"Rumple…" she swallowed and took a deep breath before pushing herself back up on her feet. For a moment, he almost hoped that she'd be unsteady and present him with an opportunity to reach forward and help her, but she did just fine on her own. Pity. "I'm sorry. I didn't…"

"That's quite all right, dearie," he assured her, summoning the magic he'd sent up into the tower into his hand again. Pandora's Box, that meant that this had indeed been a profitable experience for him, in more ways than one. "As it happens, I've had my eye on this little trinket for some time. Never was able to get my hands on it…but now your compatriot has delivered it right to me."

He was proud, but suddenly she seemed frightened, her eyes widened and she immediately spun around to look at the door behind her as if noticing the silence for the first time. What she was afraid of seemed perfectly clear to him even before she spoke.

"What about Samuel?" she asked quietly, looking at the box in his hands. "What will you do to him?"

"Don't worry, dearie," he dismissed. "I won't kill him. I promised you and wouldn't and I am a man of my word. I'm merely sending him somewhere…a bit less comfortable."

With a snap of his fingers, he sent Samuel to a lovely little swamp he knew of in the middle of Regina's Kingdom. Silence greeted the pair of them as soon as the boy was gone. His mind registered that there were only two people once more on the castle ground. The box was empty. Once again it was just him and Belle. As he always did lately, he felt like he had a million things to say to her. Where to begin was always the trouble.

"I suppose I should be grateful that you stopped him from relegating me to this terrible fate," he muttered, tapping the side of the box with his finger all the while wishing that he'd hear her use his name, not his full name, but merely his nickname again. "Rumple". Only a few people knew him well enough to use it. She'd used it before but only a handful of times and each time it made him feel like he'd somehow taken a step closer to her. He enjoyed that feeling. "I don't imagine there's much room to stretch one's legs inside this box. I'm quite touched by what you did."

"I hate to disappoint you, but I didn't throw Samuel out just to save you," she whispered after a moment. She took a deep breath and held her head high. "I did it for the people of the Enchanted Forest."

He smiled. Of course she had. He couldn't see her logic in that, but he was sure it existed. The woman never did anything if it wasn't beneficial to a greater purpose. She would be quite the dealmaker.

"Oh?"

"I wanted so badly to believe Samuel's story, but something about it didn't make sense from the beginning. And when he wouldn't give me a proper answer about what he'd been through, I went through his things. I soon discovered it wasn't a coincidence that I found him in the marketplace. I was just a means to an end," she shrugged.

How she could sound so upset while looking so strong was trait most royalty had. He used to think that it was drilled into them from birth so that they could elicit sympathy while ruling in the darkest of times. But watching it on her, he knew it wasn't something she'd learned. Her pride, just as much as the hurt she felt, were genuine. How anyone could claim to be her friend and put her in such a position that she would feel what she felt he couldn't understand. Samuel was lucky that he was gone, that she'd asked him not to hurt him, it was the only thing keeping him from killing him now.

"Samuel had a map to this castle and a drawing of your Dark One Dagger…"

She spoke those words and glanced up at him, purposefully studied his gaze. It took everything within him to keep his demeanor calm. This was the first time the dagger had ever been mentioned around her, the first time that he even had an inkling she knew about it. If it weren't for his magic grounding him, he felt like he might have toppled over. If he was calm and cool, if he didn't show his shock, then perhaps she would think it was all a lie. But would it be any harm if she didn't?

"That's when I realized…he was a mercenary. He came here to seize your dagger so he could control you with it. He and his men intended to use you to plunder the Enchanted Forest. There was no way I could let that happen, so really, it all went much beyond your well-being," she finished pointing a finger at his chest, a finger that he could have let touch him if he leaned in just a bit more.

"I see…"

He should have been terrified. He should have been considering all that she knew and how to get it out of her head so that the information could be safe again so that she need not know, and no one would threaten their lives for it again. But all he could do was hear her words in his head over and over. It hadn't been entirely for his sake…but it had been a little. He wasn't sure exactly what Samuel, or his notes, told her about the dagger, but if she did know what it did, what it could do to him, then she had protected him in a very big way. "Touched" didn't even really begin to describe it.

Suddenly she gave another big sigh and took a step back. Her heart skipped beats erratically, but it wasn't because of their proximity, it was a symptom he recognized of being sleep deprived. She needed rest.

"I think that's enough excitement for one night. I'm off to bed."

She didn't wait for his response, just began to move off to the dungeons leaving him feel entirely grateful that she'd come to that conclusion on her own and he wouldn't need to seek her out to tuck a blanket over her when she passed out from exhaustion.

"But first, one question…" she muttered before she'd gotten too far. There was a mischievous smile on her face that complimented her drowsy eyes impossibly well. "After everything that's happened tonight, do you finally trust me?"

It wasn't easy to catch him off guard, it wasn't easy for someone to ask him a question to which he couldn't readily think up some answer that would do in a pinch. However, catching him off guard seemed to be Belle's special talent. He could hear the remark in the back of his head, the words reverberated through his skull with the noise of hundreds of Dark One's screaming it at him, begging him to tell her that he didn't trust anyone. But he couldn't seem to get the command to speak past his brain.

"Never mind," she muttered, finally a blush blooming nearly as bright as her playful smile grew on her cheeks and chest. "I already know the answer…good-night, Rumpelstiltskin."

Did she? Did she really know the answer? He did, and that was the trouble. He did trust her. After all these months, after tonight's encounter, he had to admit that she might have been the first person that he truly trusted since his son. But this particular incident, assuring as it was, was also unfortunate for her. Because while he did trust her, it was that same trust that opened up the door for things like this to happen, for people to take advantage of her. This was the second time that someone had attempted to use her to get to him, she'd been lucky that she hadn't been killed both times, but she might not be a third time. He trusted her and that was exactly why he had to do something that he dreaded. He couldn't risk her.

"Belle!" he called before she could get much further. She stopped and turned to him expectantly, eyes battling the sleep her body needed. This seemed cruel, but it had to be done. Better now than later. He sent Pandora's Box safely back up into his tower and summoned her cloak into his hand. He hadn't removed the clasp yesterday. He should have.

"Whether I do trust you to come back from the marketplace or not, I clearly can't trust the rest of the world not to use your naivety to find their way into this castle and leave unharmed again."

He unhooked the clasp from her cloak then and used his magic to superheat the metal until it melted away into uselessness. Her face fell nearly as quickly as it did once she realized exactly what he'd just done.

"But-!"

"But!" he inserted quickly. He felt guilty. He felt probably about as terrible as she had when she'd chased her friend out of this castle. In truth, this wasn't her fault, she'd done nothing wrong, and that meant that he had a deep-seated desire to fix it for her. Looking at her tired face, thinking of her returning to her cell to sleep away her hard-won work, he could think of one thing that might help.

"If you'll follow me, I have something that might make up for it a bit; for the loss of your beloved village."

He didn't give her a chance to argue, though he did her let out a frustrated sigh as he led her out of the pantry, out of the kitchen , through the Great Hall and up the stairs to the second-floor room where her friend had recuperated all too well. He stood aside for her once they arrived and allowed her to venture inside and look about solemnly. Perhaps this room wasn't the best of his ideas, especially considering the history she now had with it, but when he remembered the way the sun had bathed it when he'd knocked on the door that morning, he couldn't imagine a more perfect spot for her.

"I don't understand," she stated, looking at him with confusion. "You want me to…clean it?"

"Obviously," he sighed, wishing that she could figure it out for herself so that he didn't have to say the words. If ever he wanted one of their silent conversations, this was a time. "And then I'd like you to stay in it."

"Excuse me?!" she exclaimed, surprise chasing her sleepless night from her eyes. She looked around the room, this way and that as if expecting to see it written somewhere. "You want me to…to stay here? Out of the dungeon? You're…you're giving me my own bedroom? A real bedroom?"

"Now, now, don't go and work yourself up over a practicality," he spat. "I'm nearly hoarse from screaming for you so often when you are reading in the library or down in the dungeons. This is far more suitable for you to attend to my needs and your chores in almost no time at all!"

"Thank you!" she breathed, looking around the room, her eyes glistening with unshed tears that he was rather grateful for. It was a lie, of course. All of it. But at least it allowed him to feel a little less like he was favoring her, even if what came to mind when he thought about his needs was less than chivalrous. He hadn't thought about how that might have been a problem until then. Now he couldn't get it out of his mind. He'd traded one problem for another. He just couldn't win when it came to her.

"I…thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me, dearie," he responded, trying to give her a mischievous smile of his own. "The dungeon shall always be there!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there you have it. How will I make Belle going to town canon but still have her be shocked that Rumple trusts her to go to town again in 1x12? This is how. Melt the clip, tell her that others can't be trusted, and that sort of takes care of the situation. Fun fact, I like how sometimes the characters sort of write themselves. This chapter is exactly as it appears in the Moments version and I remember when I wrote it being shocked that Rumple gave her a room at the end, so much so I wondered if it would be fine when approaching it from this side of things. Turns out it's practically written itself and is pretty okay! With Rumple's development, I feel like it fits here really well. I hope you'll agree.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I appreciate that you enjoyed it. We still have a couple of chapters that I would categorize as falling into Truth and Daggers. The next chapter is one of those that I didn't expect when I was writing Rumple's version. It's not in Belle's story, and so I never had it as part of the Chronicles, but I'm glad it's there. It does something with the jealousy that was developed and even if Belle isn't part of it directly we still get a really nice Rumbelle Moment out of it. Well...maybe not "nice", but...I'll let you be the judge! Let's continue! Peace and Happy Reading!


	163. Pissing Contest

Belle made herself busy, tired as he could see she was. The room seemed to make her truly happy, and she seemed willing and determined to spend what she had left of the night fixing it so that she could sleep in an actual bed for the first time in months. He told her not to worry about dinner, that he had some work to keep him busy and she was obviously tired. Her busyness worked for his business. With a wave of his hand, he sent the books that he recognized as his own back to his tower and then let his magic carry him to the place he needed to go. It was a place that she need not know about, a place that she would hopefully never discover he'd gone to so long as she remained busy and tired: the swamp.

He sat himself up on a tree limb and looked down into the depths where the strange dying boy he'd welcomed into his castle yesterday now trudged knee-deep in water. He smiled, amused at his circumstances. Watching him now, he considered that this punishment might have been better than killing him.

"Enjoying yourself?!" he piqued from his branch.

Waves rose up and rippled across the water from the splash his legs made as he turned to find him hovering in the tree above him.

"Where have you taken me, Dark One?!" he roared.

"I promised Belle I wouldn't harm you, and I haven't," he noted with a shrug. "I've delivered you someplace safe, and that's all you should need to know! What I need to know, however…that's only just beginning. Now…" he used his magic to maneuver himself off the branch, to stand in the muck in front of him so close he could smell the sweat on his brow. "Tell me what you wanted with my dagger," he growled.

The boy, Samuel, Belle had called him, opened his mouth but closed it quickly. On his face, there was a look of utter shock which transformed to fear as he realized that whatever lie he'd been about to tell would do him no good. Oh, he did love it when they realized that.

"Oh yes, Belle told me," he assured him. "She told me of your map and your drawing, she told me all about how you longed to take the dagger for yourself and force me to overturn half the Enchanted Forest for you. Now, I want you to tell me if she missed anything."

Samuel swallowed hard but kept his face angry and unmoving as he stared back into his eyes. Foolish bravery. "It sounds like you already know everything."

"Everything?!" he questioned with amusement before letting his face go serious again. "Did you tell her anything else about my dagger."

"She's already told you more than I ever did!" he screeched. "I don't know how she found out to tell you, but-"

"Well, that's the problem with smart women, dearie! One should always assume they know everything! And lucky for you, that's the case and I believe it!" he shouted. He hid his relief at Belle's lack of knowledge well enough, even if he felt like it was unnecessary. Whatever she knew…he trusted her. "Now go on and scuttle away back under a rock where you belong. I've nothing more to ask of you."

"I can't make the same claim!" he insisted, taking a step closer as if he was going to be intimidated by such a step and cower. He could remove his legs with just a thought if he so willed it, shrink him down to the size of a leprechaun, or curse him to never harm another soul as long as he lived. He wasn't afraid of him. "I demand that you release Belle to me."

"Demand?!" he chuckled. "That's quite a word given your current situation!"

"Release her!"

"Why? She's content!"

"She doesn't know any better! She knows nothing of the world besides what her parents showed her! She has no idea what she is, much less what true contentment is!"

"'She knows nothing'…" he mocked, laughing at him. The idea that someone didn't know what contentment was seemed a ridiculous notion. It wasn't something that was taught; it was something that was felt. And he was fairly certain she felt it with him if only because for the first time in centuries, he felt it too when she was around. Samuel didn't scare him, but that fact did. She scared him. "Sounds like someone who doesn't know her at all."

"I've known her since we were children!"

"People change!"

Samuel took a breath, he closed his eyes and collected his thought as he breathed through his nose and his nostrils flared. "She knows nothing of this world, of what it really is, I am of the same class she was born into! I grew up with her, I can teacher her what she needs to know about living in the world. I'll take care of her."

"Sounds to me like she'd be trading one father for another."

"I am nothing like her father!" he growled through clenched teeth and passion-such passion. Where was that passion, he wondered, when he'd come and taken her away? When her mother had died? When she was betrothed to Gaston?!

"You just confessed you were of the same class! The same class that would have seen her sold off to a brute of a prince if he offered the highest price."

"My people, yes, but I would never have seen her go with Gaston."

"And you did everything in your power to stop such a match? By…running away, I presume?"

"This isn't about me or what I did wrong. I'm not the one holding her against her will now!"

He allowed darkness to overshadow his face at that comment. He took a step closer to the boy, when he didn't back down he took another step just to watch him have to take a step away from him. His heart finally began to race with adrenaline. That was good. He wanted him to feel scared. He wanted to watch him quake in his shadow.

"She's content," he reiterated. If he could repeat himself to make a point, then so could he. "I've seen the smiles to prove it. This life suites her."

"A life where you hold her captive."

"Odd choice of words when just a few weeks ago she confessed to me she was no prisoner."

Samuel let out a nervous breath of laughter. His smile was weak and false. There was a shift of power between the pair of them. "You've brainwashed her."

"A woman like that?!" he questioned. It was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard where Belle was concerned. "She's the most stubborn person I've ever met! Not to mention well educated. It would be a task indeed to turn the brains of a woman like her to mush. You claim to know her, did she seem brain-washed to you?"

"She just doesn't know what it's like to live, truly live in this world, outside of the castle she was born in."

"And you do? What will you offer her?! Love? The opportunity to cleave herself to you instead of her brutish fiancé?"

"What do you offer her besides captivity?!"

"Work!"

"That you pay her well for, I'm sure."

Oh, but it was the other way around wasn't it…

"We had an agreement."

"To get the ogres out of our home, yes, I'm well familiar with the agreement that led her to be with you. But the ogres are gone, and Belle remains."

"That was the deal," he snapped. Anything else would have been magic for free and all magic came with a price. "Perhaps you are not as familiar with it as you think you are. And if you think that she's miserable in her new life, then perhaps you don't know her as well as you think you do or as well as you did."

"And you do?"

A challenge. He never backed down from a challenge.

"We've come to know each other fine enough over the last few months."

"It's a façade! She's doing what she has to do to survive."

He let the words wash over him for a moment, allowed himself to question whether or not that was true, but the conversation that they'd had just a few moments ago seemed to deny it. If it was a façade, why would his trust mean so much to her? If it was a façade, why would she blush the way she had, why would her heart race, why would she smile when she thought he wasn't looking? There was just too much that couldn't be explained by that theory. And he included himself on that. For a hundred years he'd known people, he'd made deals had interactions, and yet not once had he ever felt like he knew someone the way he knew her. It was simple to explain. She was the first person that he'd lived comfortably with for an extended period of time. But was there more to it? The visions and fantasies poured into his head all over again. Was there another reason he felt like he knew her so well?

"She likes being organized, enjoys cooking and even cleaning, not that she was ever given the opportunity to explore such hobbies and habits prior to her arrival so what she feels on those subjects you would never know," he spat back at her "friend."

"She openly admits that she hasn't seen enough of the world and revels in the stories I tell her of it while still keeping her opinions. She corrects me at times, an annoying little habit but one that endures. When she's not doing her chores she tends to her library and reads by the fire. She doesn't sit still well. She enjoys keeping busy."

"-and you enjoy keeping her-"

"Once a week she goes to the village," he went on, ignoring him. "She walks the entire way all by herself and comes back, all by herself. Never once as she attempted to run and trust me…I would know if she had."

"You're a monster."

He reached out and shoved the boy. He shoved him so hard that he lost his footing and fell into the swamp with a splash. It was a response from himself that he didn't understand, and that meant this was dangerous. Coming to speak with him always was dangerous, but he was suddenly aware of just how dangerous it was. That last comment threatened to be the final nail in the coffin. He wanted to hurt him. He wanted to take his head and hold it underwater until his lungs filled up with the swamp and that was that. But he'd promised Belle he wouldn't harm him, not on this encounter at least. If he didn't go home to her soon, it was entirely possible he would break that promise. It was lucky for the boy that she was so caring.

"I promised Belle that I wouldn't harm you, as far as I'm concerned that courtesy extends to this moment only. Stay away from my property and stay far away from my Belle, or else I'll use the dagger you so desire to teach you an entirely different definition of the word 'cleave'."

"What about Belle?!" he called from where he lay sprawled in the water.

He sneered down at him. What about Belle? Wasn't that the question he was asking himself all the time these past few weeks? What was he going to do about Belle if what he was feeling was genuine, if the future the Seer tried to warn him about was true?! He still hadn't decided. But he knew that for now he was going to go home. He was going to see her in the morning for breakfast as he always did, and they were going to go on as they had all these months. And as for Samuel…

"Well, you know what they say; if you love something, let it go! If it's meant to be, then it'll come back. Though after today…I very much doubt that'll ever happen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freaking loved writing this chapter. For so many reasons but overall the simplest reason is it really is a "pissing contest". It's not magic against magic, Rumple would obliterate him if it was. Instead, he resorts to simply being a bit of a brute and a bully. Magically he could whoop his ass, instead he pushes him down. And Samuel and Rumple...the thing about their argument is that they're both wrong while both being right. They are both talking in circles here. For Samuel, it is outdated and rudimentary because the truth is that he doesn't know her anymore. For Rumple, it might be up to date, but I think he is struggling with what Samuel is bringing to the surface. He likes having Belle around but she's not really free and therefore isn't really there by choice. I do think that's something that bothers him here, maybe for the first time. It's something he doesn't like and will begin to haunt him. But at the same time I think he's afraid to free her because God only knows what will happen then.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments. We've only got one last chapter from the comic, obviously we have to do something with Pandora's Box and the book that he got. I must say, I hope you like all of this chapter, I hope it caps the comic story nicely and maybe comes to you like the surprise it came to me. There's some good stuff here. I'm sort of partial to one line, in particular, I hope you don't overlook. Favorite line in this entire thing, when Rumple unintentionally admits his true feelings comes at the end. He claims her. "Stay far away from my Belle." That's not meant to be necessarily in a possessive Gaston sort of claiming. It's just meant to show that he feels protective and part of him accepts that what they are becoming is more than what they are. It's sort of like accepting that she might be meant for him just as he is meant for her. Love it. I hope you will too! Peace and Happy Reading!


	164. Future Hiding Spots

What was he thinking? Was he insane? Going crazy?! If his behavior was any indication, then yes, obviously!

He'd given her a bedroom! A fucking bedroom! Why had he given her a bedroom?! He should have been trying to figure a way to get away from her, the last thing he needed was for her to be closer! All he could think when he returned from arguing with Samuel, yet another stupid and pointless thing he'd done, was that it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Until he entered his own bedroom, the one space he'd been using as a retreat from her and realized that he could hear her heartbeat, he could smell her hair, and that was when it dawned on him that she was right down the hall, asleep in a bedroom probably in nothing but a shift! All it would take was a good fire to see right through it and-

He was an idiot! It was exactly thoughts like that which drove him to try and figure out something to do with her and yet, now that he was in his room, he realized that he'd had the perfect opportunity, his pride just hadn't allowed him to see it until it was too late. He didn't want to release her to the world for fear of the dangers out in it. But, if he'd taken Samuel up on his offer, he would have been assured that she had some kind of protection! And yet…

He couldn't bear the thought of it. He wasn't confident that he wouldn't be able to let her go, not in a trade like she was just some common object, and not like...that! He would never have been able to just give her to someone like her friend had been. Frankly, he wasn't sure that after what transpired, the complete details of which were still elusive to him, she would have gone with the boy. And now he was here, alone in his room, his head filled with thoughts of her as she slept down the hall in her new bedroom. She was only a stone's throw from where he sat now. Moran.

Fortunately for him, he had work to be done, quite a bit more of it than he'd planned on thanks to Belle. Up in the tower, he was confronted with not one item but two that he was intrigued by; the book from the boy, and the legendary Pandora's box. Which one he needed to deal with first, was obvious.

He had several items in his collection that could potentially be harmful to him. They were purposefully spread out in different areas all over the castle, hidden in different ways with different magic as a precaution. Individually, each of these objects were strong on their own and quite dangerous to him, the last thing he wanted was for someone to break in like Robin Hood had and gain access to all of them at once. As it was now, someone might find something, they might break through one of his spells, he might gain access to a single item, but spread out as they were it was highly unlikely anyone besides himself would ever possess all of them. His tower held the Curse as well as his mother's wand and the others in his collection...the Room-Without-Doors already had its fair share of artifacts, not the least of which was the true Queen of Arendelle. Downstairs Beowulf's sword sat inconspiculously. It was clear to him now that Pandora's box needed to join the other items in their concealment. The question was how and where…

He had an idea.

Downstairs in Belle's kitchen, there was a small cabinet, one that she used to house the simple china they used for breakfast, dinner, and of course, teatime. Teatime…oh, he had the best idea he'd ever had.

He used his magic to form a hole in the stone floor just in front of the cabinet. He concealed the hole in wood, added some hinges and a circular ring that he attached to the door to easily pull the door on the ground up to open it and push it down to shut it. He cast spells over the hideaway, spells that concealed the magic that the box gave off, magic that dampened the call of the Dark Magic. Then he set the box into the freshly made refuge and closed the new lid over it. Obviously, he couldn't leave it like that. The way it was Belle would come down first thing in the morning, find it, and open it herself. He didn't know what had transpired between her and Samuel, if she knew what the box was or how to operate it. He trusted her not to use it on him, but he didn't trust anyone else that might break in and find it. He had to conceal it. A simple glamor linked to a lock and key would do the job. And he knew exactly what he wanted that key to be.

He opened the cabinet. There was their tea set. Not just their tea set, but _the_ tea set. It was the tea set that he'd once traded the life of a cheating husband for because the Seer said that it was going to be important one day. Now he knew how it would be important. He found that teacup, the same one he'd held all those years ago, the one which just so happened to have the chip in it, thanks to Belle. He was rather grateful for that now. It would make it easy to identify in the future.

He set the chipped cup upon one of the matching saucers; he set the key into the lock. It was a simple spell, one that connected that lock and that key to the hiding spot, when the time was right, he slipped his hand into the cabinet removed the cup from the saucer, and watched as the door vanished from sight. An easy but tricky glamour, for only if someone had both the lock and the key would the door open for them. And no one, not even Belle, was going to find that lock.

He used his potion and blood to mark the saucer, the teacup, and then the entire damn cabinet, just to make sure that all of it came with him in the Curse. He pocketed the saucer before he closed the cabinet door, wondering if Belle would notice that a piece was missing from the collection. Probably, but with it hidden in his tower it was unlikely she'd find it.

Pandora's box hidden away and sunrise still hours away, he was excited to return to his tower, hide the saucer, and then pick up the book he'd been longing to read. He sat by his fire, channeling Belle as he paged through the book. There was no indication which realm it might have come from, but it was clear that it wasn't from this world simply because it was about this world.

It was impressive, because he'd taken it off of a little boy he'd expected the book to be filled with children's stories, but it read like a manual on the Enchanted Forest. It held information on the Kingdom, stories about legends, warnings, even a bit about the role Fairies and dwarves played in society. He was on the fence as to whether or not the author had ever been to the Enchanted Forest, reason being that somethings he wrote about were quite accurate, like the bit about dwarves being born from eggs and fairies being related to the stars. However, the section on him, the Dark One, was less than accurate.

The tome didn't seem old, chances were that he'd been the Dark One when it was written, but the book never mentioned his name, real or otherwise. The book did mention that he liked to make deals, but the things that the book claimed he did were a combination of childish pranks and bitter revenge-fueled tricks. It described him as a villainous creature with little soul. It described nothing of his curse, nothing of his dagger, nothing of the Dark One's origins. But…

The boy was right. It didn't contain and origin story, but it did contain a conclusion. His heart raced and for once the hum in his head that was caused by the other Dark One's dimmed as he sat forward and read on, devouring the words he saw before him. It wasn't a detailed account, nothing in the book was, but the book was still very clear. There was a cure for his curse.

 _Get rid of it_ , one of the Dark Ones warned nervously.

According to the book, it lay in another land but which land it did not give away.

_Stop reading and get rid of it._

In this other land, a "guide" would lead the Dark One to a Guardian.

_Stop this now!_

With a proper wish, the Guardian would take the powers of the Dark One and leave him a human man again.

_I said get rid of it!_

Nimue's screech had him throwing the book across the room, where it slammed to the floor. His heart was doing more than racing. His stomach was rolling. He felt like he was going to be sick, but he didn't know if he was going to be sick with fear or sick with excitement.

"These things are not for you to consider! They are poison to all of us, not just you. Get rid of it!"

"What are you doing here?" he questioned with a sneer. His fingers slipped inside his boot and pulled forth his dagger. The name written on it was his own. There was no explanation for why Nimue was there. She hadn't stood before him in this tower for more than a century! "I didn't summon you."

"You know why I'm here, Rumple! We only appear when you are filled with doubt! My uninvited presence should tell you just how dangerous that book and the ideas within it are. Listen to me when I tell you…get rid of it! Now!" she hissed. She reached out her hand, and he felt magic fill the room as the book flew up from the place it had landed on the floor and landed in his open hand. He let out a soft "oof" when a corner of it hit his belly.

"Get rid of it," the woman growled, standing suddenly behind him. She put her hands on his shoulders so that he would turn to face the fire. "Destroy it. It's for the best."

_Destroy it!_

_Burn it!_

_Get rid of it!_

Over and over the voices taunted, recognizing the threat he held in his hand. They knew what could happen if he kept it, they knew what would happen if he ever decided to use it. Why would he ever need it? Why would he ever use it? He was happy with his life, he was happy with his curse, so happy it may as well have been a blessing. He'd worked hard to get his hands on poison just as Nimue had told him. But like the box and the sword and the urn it was better he get his hands on it than someone else. Better for him to-

He reeled back, preparing to throw it into the fire when the Seer interrupted with a familiar vision, one he was nearly certain was a fantasy, until now…

_It was Belle. A vision of Belle before him wearing unfamiliar white clothes, her face obscured by some kind of hat. And there was a feeling that swelled up inside of him with that image, a feeling of happiness after a long period of sadness, a feeling of completion. His mind raced with thoughts, thoughts of excitement for the future, thoughts of how lucky he was, of how impossible it all felt. In his head was a very specific thought, he was going to make her the happiest woman on the face of the earth. He would protect her and he'd do anything he had to do in order to accomplish that. She made him feel like a man again. He wanted to hold onto that._

When he came out of the vision, he was breathless. He could feel moisture on his cheek that betrayed him. He was crying. The voices were still loud, the Seer had drowned them out for a few moments, but now it wat that image that he carried of the woman sleeping downstairs that was capable of silencing them all. It was powerful. She was powerful. And as he held the book in his hand, he had a feeling that his future, every future, hung on this book.

The voices were upset with him, they screamed and yelled and hollered as they felt his resolve falter. But he hung onto the image of Belle, used his magic to hide the book within the depths of the fireplace mantle, and left it there.

Just in case…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it. I said I used this section to close out another storyline and this is the one. As it turns out I literally closed them both out in the same chapter. The book is important to season 7. It's not actually seen in season 7, but in Moments Beyond, which would sort of be Rumple's intro to season 7, he brings Belle back to the castle to fetch something important once he's decided to get rid of his curse. It's a book that he hid within his tower fireplace just in case he ever needed it. That book leads him to Arendelle, which leads him to tell Belle about wanting to break the curse, which sets them on their journey. And...ta-da...season 7 now exists.
> 
> Thank you for your comments RolfB. As always they are greatly appreciated. I'm sorry this chapter isn't terribly exciting. I know it seems like it's filler but it's really not. It's a setup chapter, it just so happens that the things it's setting up (S3A and S7) are quite a ways away. But, without this chapter, finding Pandora's Box and Rumple going back for the book just wouldn't make any sense. Chapters like this really show why this fiction was so complicated to write. I had to do a lot of seeing into the future for it! Like...a lot! But I hope you'll be able to appreciate it for what it brings to the table later, if not now. Good news, the next chapter is a lot more exciting. Peace and Happy Reading.


	165. Becoming Even

What to do, what to do…

He was making it worse. Lately, it seemed like all he was capable of doing was making their situation worse. Even when he told himself not to do something he seemed unable to stop himself. He shouldn't dote on her, he shouldn't have given her a bedroom, he shouldn't be thinking about her, and he shouldn't be paying any attention to her whatsoever!

But he couldn't seem to help it. One thing bled into another where she was concerned. And it seemed to happen so naturally that he didn't realize what he'd done until after he'd done it. First a library, then clothes, now a bedroom, and then…

He'd started a new tradition with her, one that was born of the book he'd given her so long ago. She wanted so badly to see the world, but he still managed to refuse to take her along in his dealings. So instead, he'd figured out a way to show her the world without removing her from the castle. Every time he left for another land, he returned with a book, one that took place in whatever Kingdom he journeyed to. He would give it to her and watch her, eagerly awaiting the moment she would reach the end. Then the fun began. She would guess where he'd been, and then, afterward, usually over tea, they would discuss his travels a bit more. She hung on every word he had to share about his experiences. And he relished their conversations. He languished in the way that she broke up his long day with their conversation, the way she laughed, the way she would lean toward him when he spoke, and even the way he couldn't wait to hear what she would say or add about his experiences. So much for not indulging her...

Still, he had a feeling they both loved it. So why she was playing with him now was a mystery to him.

He was in his tower, spinning to forget the small spat that they'd just had, a small spat that had irritated him, but that appeared to entertain her, which was irritating enough on it's own. It was his fault, of course. She'd been nearing the end of her book, and she'd caught him glancing over at her from his spinning wheel in the Great Room.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she'd asked far too innocently. She'd seen him, she'd seen his eagerness, and it made him break into a cold sweat.

But he should have come up with something else to say other than "Merely wondering why my maid has so much free time on her hands. Perhaps I need to assign you more chores." Instead of hiding what he was certain she already knew, he should have just told her he was waiting for her to finish the book, then maybe she wouldn't have doubled down on his accusation.

"Perhaps you do," she'd smirked, putting her bookmark in the book and closing it so hard he heard it across the room. "Tell me, Rumpelstiltskin, what have I neglected to take care of?"

No one insulted her cleaning. If he hadn't suggested that the entryway looked a bit dusty to cover his tracks, then perhaps they would be talking about that book right now. But instead, she'd won their argument by rising not only to dust, a simple task, but also to polish the floor, wash the windows, and collect new flowers; tasks that would easily keep her busy for the rest of the day. He was such a fool. He was such a-

Well…this was an interesting turn to his day.

There was someone on the grounds. Two someones. One of the signatures he recognized quickly because it was always one of the most unique he'd come across in his life. Jefferson.

The second wasn't familiar at all to him. However, knowing this man as he did, he had a very good guess at who it might be. Grace, Jefferson's daughter, or at least he assumed.

Just as soon as he identified the callers on his property, he heard the shouts, Jefferson, downstairs just outside the door, calling his name. Jefferson, in the foyer, shouting for him at the top of his lungs. He considered, for an instant, bothering himself to get up from his spinning wheel to go and meet his old colleague. But Jefferson was a capable young man, or at least he had been in his days. He assumed that either Belle would help him or else he would find his way up to his tower just like he used to. A few moments later, he heard steps pounding on the stairs. Apparently, it was the latter.

"I'm sorry he wouldn't stop!"

"Rumpelstiltskin!" Jefferson screamed over Belle. He glanced around at her to make sure she was alright, but other than being breathless from chasing after Jefferson, she was fine. The small human child slung over Jefferson's shoulder, however, was obviously not as fine.

"Jefferson…to what do I owe the pleasure?"

He didn't answer with words, instead, he stomped over to one of his tables. With his free arm he pushed off all the books and bobbles onto the ground and laid the child out upon it. The infamous Grace…though she looked quite a bit different than when he'd last seen her. When he'd sent Jefferson to retrieve Cruella DeVil, she'd been sleeping in her bed and he'd only gotten a glance, but he was certain that when he'd seen her, she hadn't been bright blue. He'd bet his life that Gargamel Mushrooms were the culprit. They were poison, magically, of course. The idea of a joke that some witch or wizard had come up with in the past, they were hardly funny. They had a tendency to turn their victims into blueberry bushes. Little Grace, it appeared, was only a few days away from sprouting roots.

"Fix her!" Jefferson demanded.

"Fix her?" he laughed. "She doesn't appear broken. Has she sprung a leak? Jostled a cog?"

"Don't toy with me, Rumpelstiltskin! This isn't a joke. Grace is sick, dying. Someone gave her just a bit of the Gargamel Mushrooms and she collapsed right away and began turning blue."

"Now, why would anyone do such a thing?!"

"You know why!" he shouted, red eyes practically bulging out of his skull. His associate hadn't slept recently, probably not since his daughter had gotten sick, and yet Jefferson looked far older than he should have. Parenthood had a tendency to do that. So did living without magic. Jefferson always was talented, living in a world where he refused to use his natural gifts would always have side effects. Especially considering all the enemies he'd made jumping realms all those years ago. Today he was learning that lesson the hard way. "It was to get back at me. I won't have her die because of something I did! Fix her. I know you can!"

"Well, perhaps I can, dearie," he confirmed, taking a step forward. "But you know as well as I do, all magic comes with a price!"

"And I've paid it, several times over!" he answered without hesitation. "You owe me, for procuring several magical items for you over the years."

Damn it. All he had to say was those words, and he felt a familiar tugging inside of him. It was a tugging that reminded him that he did owe Jefferson. He just never thought that Jefferson would realize it. Long, long ago, they'd had a relationship where they'd joke about owing one another favors. Those favors that Jefferson owed him were what allowed him to send Jefferson out after Cruella. He'd forgotten that while he'd cashed in on his favors, Jefferson had never asked him for his own. At least not until now. Jefferson had the upper hand, and his confidence as he stood before him making his demands told him that he knew it.

"Fix her," he insisted.

"So…it seems your rainy day has finally come…"

_Do him a favor and he'll repay you in kind…_

"If not this, then what?" he shrugged. "Fix my daughter."

He didn't like being ordered around, no matter what the Seer said. He didn't like being forced into corners and having boys tell him to-

"Rumple!" Belle's call forced his gaze away from Jefferson. She was standing by the girl, holding her hand. Her face was contorted in worry and panic, she looked as if she was going to break into tears at any moment. He'd do anything to make sure that didn't happen. "Please…help her!"

If that was her demand…

"How long ago was she poisoned?" he asked as he turned back to his workstation and began preparing the antidote.

It was a simple concoction of rare ingredients; ingredients that he had a tendency to keep on hand for times just like this.

"Three days," Jefferson answered.

"Three days! It's taken you three days to get here?!" he heard Belle gasp as he started the math in his head. Three days…the poison took ten days to complete its transformation. He needed a strong concoction to overcome three days.

"We had little choice, if anyone had seen her, they'd have thought she had a plague and killed her, we had to be careful, and we do live quite a distance."

"The Gargamel Mushroom only gets worse the longer it's in the system; another day or so and she'd have begun to shrink!" he added with a small laugh that neither Jefferson nor Belle reciprocated.

"I'm aware," Jefferson answered as he added the necessary ingredients in the necessary proportions into a small cauldron. It fizzled and popped just as it should before it finally flashed with a bang that made Jefferson and Belle jump. It was done. But if he fed it to her as it was, she'd sear her throat. The room was silent, two sets of eyes were on him as he deftly poured it into a glass flask. If it weren't for his curse, it would have burned him, but instead he barely felt it as he went to the window sill, rolled the flask in the old snow so that it formed a snowball with that flask at its core. The potion was hot. It melted the snow easily, but by the time he walked back over to Jefferson he could feel that it was at least cool enough to give it to the girl without harming her.

"Give it to her," he ordered, handing it over to him. The second he took it from him, he felt the pressure in his chest lessen. The deal was done, his debt paid…one of them at least.

He watched as Jefferson hustled over to his daughter, threw the stopper away to some corner of the room, and lifted her head so that he could pour the antidote into her open mouth. He didn't need to watch what happened next because he knew what was going to happen.

"Grace!"

The girl wasn't that far gone, and the antidote he'd made was strong. First, her coloring would recede, returning her to her normal shade of pale white.

"Grace!"

Then her heartbeat and her breathing would begin to stabilize.

"Grace!"

And finally-

"Papa!"

Her paralysis would end.

"Oh, Grace! I was so worried I'd lost you!"

Behind him, he heard the shuffle of clothes and the breathlessness that came from a hard hug, the type that a father might give to his child when he got them back from the brink of death. He knew that hug, he'd given it once upon a time.

"I'm here, Papa…I'm tired."

"I know, I know, I'm just so happy you're okay again!" Jefferson choked out so that he could hear he was crying without looking at him. Suddenly Jefferson sniffled and then cleared his throat. "We'll rest here for tonight and be on our way as soon as Grace is strong enough."

"If you insist," he commented without looking at him. It wasn't the first time Jefferson had invited himself over for the night, just the first time he'd also invited his daughter. If he felt like she was safe here, then he wouldn't deny them. It was almost like old times. "Belle will find you accommodations."

"Belle?"

He winced at his mistake as Belle piped up "me."

Jefferson was a man of eternal curiosity, no matter how he changed. He didn't need to see his face to know that he'd just made a misstep. And now Jefferson was curious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Welcome to the infamous Jefferson Chapters! Kinda nice to have them right where they belong all along, right? It's nice not to have to wait. For anyone not familiar, "The Jefferson Chapters" originally refers to two chapters that I had written for Moments way back in season 2, but didn't actually publish until something like season 6 or 7. Sebastian Stan had left to do Marvel stuff by then, but A&E continued to say that they wanted him back for episodes if they could work out his schedule. Because of that, I wasn't confident with publishing the Jefferson Chapters if they were just going to bring him back and I'd have to change everything anyway. However, toward the end of the series, A&E still said they would love to have him for episodes, but they seemed resigned to the fact that it wasn't going to be possible and I finally felt comfortable enough to share them with the Moments Readers. I teased the chapters terribly for all those years, but at least in Chronicles, I'm happy to be able to deliver them to you right on time and not have to make you wait for them.
> 
> Big thank yous to RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm glad you saw the point to that chapter even if the point is for a very far off time. I'm glad you understand and I do hope that it's chapters like that (and even the Jefferson Chapters) that make the wait for this fiction worth it. Fun fact, there are two Jefferson Chapters in Moments and there will be two Jefferson Chapters in Chronicles. Hm...but one of the Jefferson Chapters in Moment is all Belle and Jefferson talking alone so...gee, I wonder whatever the second Jefferson Chapter in Chronicles could be?! All that and more coming up in the next chapter! Peace and Happy Reading!


	166. Unwanted Conversations

"Belle will find you accommodations."

"Belle?!"

"Me."

Belle had thought he was questioning who she was. But he recognized the amount of shock and questioning in his tone when he'd echoed her name. He hadn't been asking who she was, Jefferson had only been stunned that he knew who she was, that he'd called her by name. That was why, hours after Belle had found them accommodations, hours after they should have eaten and gone to bed, he wasn't surprised to hear familiar heavy footsteps on his stairs.

He sighed, irritated at himself, just before the top of Jefferson's head appeared. It was one little mistake…but Jefferson wouldn't be able to let it go no matter how much he wanted him to. However, unfortunately for Jefferson, he wasn't about to admit anything to him, no matter what he thought. He'd been dreading this little encounter, this reminder of how they used to talk when he was a young boy, and therefore he was prepared for it. He was working on a potion, an important potion, possibly the most important potion of his life. It was a potion that hadn't been invented yet because he was inventing it right now. His goal was to get the glass vial he was using to absorb the magic he was pouring into it. With any luck, one day this vial would be capable of pulling out the essence of anything placed inside of it and grow that essence into magic. So, for example, if he placed some kind of identifier of two individuals in love inside of it, one day it might make a True Love Potion. That would be the key to their future.

He hoped that pressure was enough to distract him from Jefferson.

"Hard to believe we once considered a wife a curse," he exclaimed, jumping up onto a table to sit just like he used to.

"I don't anymore?!" he laughed.

"The girl…you called her 'Belle'," he retorted with seriousness. Going in for the kill, he liked to think he'd taught him that, even if he regretted it now. He could play dumb, pretend like he thought Jefferson had made a random comment, but he knew that it was actually an accusation. There was no reason to act like it was anything other than it was. Besides, in trying to ignore it, he hadn't a doubt Jefferson would read more into it than he wanted him to.

"I call you Jefferson, I call Regina by her name as well, perhaps you've forgotten, but I do tend to deal in names."

"This is different."

"She is but a maid!" he exclaimed with frustration, wondering why he was letting this get to him when he'd just decided it wouldn't a few moments ago. He just wanted to work on his potion and for Jefferson and his daughter to disappear into the night. He had enough to worry about where Belle was concerned, he didn't need Jefferson to remind him.

"No…that's no maid, Rumpelstiltskin."

"Caretake."

"I mean she's not of that class!" he rebutted with an amusement in his voice that matched the youth he'd once had. "She has all her teeth, clear skin, and her callouses are fresh. You only have to look at her to know she was raised well, outside of servitude. Not to mention she's too bold for her current status."

"Ah…clever observations," he smiled over his shoulder, trying to pretend like he was proud of himself for something that was currently eating away at him. "She is, in fact, a princess, or was I suppose."

"A princess?" he balked. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"I acquired her during a deal. Her Kingdom was under attack, they needed rescuing, so I chased off the demons and got her in return. Training her was…quite the chore."

Jefferson made a noise of agreement. He felt his stomach turn over at his comment and was grateful he'd turned his back on Jefferson so he couldn't see his face. He hated saying things like that about Belle. When he'd first taken her, he probably wouldn't have been disturbed by them, but now…she wasn't a dog. And she hadn't needed training, she'd "trained" herself and to remarkable success. She didn't need him. He knew that. He just wished he could convince himself that he didn't need her.

"She seems happy here."

"Oh my!" he piqued. "Perhaps you missed the tears and babbling over your daughter's body."

"No, I just have the sense to know that they were over my daughter's situation and not her own!" he insisted with a twinkled of jest in his eyes. Just like old times. He'd forgotten how smart he was, how he could joke and jest with a wit that matched his own. He'd forgotten how they could go toe to toe for hours while he was working. The relationship he had with Belle was different than the one he'd had with Jefferson. He didn't regret anything he'd ever done where Jefferson was concerned. But if pressed to admit it, he did miss conversations like this.

"She's comfortable here."

He missed conversations like this…not conversations about this.

"Perhaps…though that says more about the place she came from than it does about me."

"Does it?"

Yes. He was confident about that. What she'd gone through with Samuel, the conversation that he'd had with Samuel…that proved it. Being his caretaker made her a prisoner, that fact turned his stomach as well, but thinking back to all those days he'd stared at her in his cauldron…she never seemed to shine in her former role as she did here.

"You know…you remind me of this guy I met once in a realm called England," Jefferson went on offhandedly. "Dr. Jekyll was trying to create a serum that would give a person control over his inner beasts or something like that. He always said it was for his patients, but I could see…he too was constantly at war with himself."

He rolled his eyes and turned to face him.

"What are you babbling about?"

Jefferson was smirking. Knowingly. Suddenly he hated just how intuitive he was.

"You like her…and you're fighting it."

His heart was racing. The nostalgia of this conversation had passed. Now he just wanted to be left alone.

"I don't like anyone," he sighed, turning back to his work, though he knew he wasn't really working anymore. He couldn't work on a potion like this and expect to have a conversation of this caliber at the same time. It had been a poor idea to start with.

"That's a lie, and you know it. You like her."

"She's the maid."

"And you enjoy spending time with her. You like having her here."

"You know…I'm in no mood for jokes, tonight," he stated rounding on the boy. First those words from Samuel and now from Jefferson, he didn't want to hear anymore. "And after your daughter nearly died, I would think you'd feel the same."

"I always was a curious one, wasn't I? You told me so all the time."

"A trait I admired and relied upon, but one that I doubt your daughter needs now."

That did it. He'd chosen his words carefully, and the result was a shadow that erased the twinkling of youthful mischief in his eyes. Jefferson sighed, he rubbed his face with his hand and looked around as if he was seeing the room he was in for the first time, wondering how he'd gotten here. Being up here had been nostalgic, for both of them. But the time between then and now was longer than it seemed sometimes. He thought he was the only one that knew that, but it appeared that Jefferson wasn't immune to it.

"Ah…no. No, not so much," he finally nodded. For the first time since he'd known him, Jefferson appeared uncomfortable. It was like a light had gone out in him. That was what he'd worried about the first time that Jefferson told him that he was "retiring", that he would lose all those wonderful traits that made him who he was. Now he saw he hadn't lost those traits, rather he'd just shut the door on them; ironic considering how his hat worked.

"I wonder, though…do you ever miss it?"

Jefferson paused. He thought about it. The silence between them lasted so long that he could practically hear him considering how he wanted to answer the question. The answer was "carefully."

"I do," he finally settled before nodding slowly. "I do miss it…until I'm out in the woods playing hide and seek with my daughter, and then I know that there isn't a thing in this world that could tempt me into parting with her."

From a Realm Jumper to the Dark One, he thought that was an awful answer, just as he had years ago. It was the part of him still felt that he'd abandoned a remarkable gift for a dead wife and a game of hide and seek.

But, from one father to another, who had now spent close to two lifetimes doing everything in his power to return to his son because he knew there was nothing better than playing hide and seek in the woods-it was the best most truthful answer he could have given. That part of him was glad he'd given it; maybe even proud.

It was probably the human part.

It was probably his "inner monster" that didn't like it. It was also probably his inner monster that was done with this conversation.

"I'm off to bed. I'm sure you'll want to be leaving with your daughter first thing in the morning. I suggest you do the same," he lied. He hadn't slept or even set foot in his own room at night since Belle moved upstairs, and he didn't intend to start now. He didn't know if that was the human side of him or the monster side.

"I know a dismissal when I hear one," Jefferson sighed, hopping off the table. He was going, but suddenly his mind was racing, filling with questions, trying to work on a theory he'd only just put together a moment ago. A monster side and a human side…he knew which side liked Belle. But he wasn't sure that was the side that was going to get him back to Baelfire. Magic could solve every problem. But what if the cure already existed.

"Was your friend ever successful?" he questioned before Jefferson could leave.

"Who?" he asked, pausing on the stairs.

"The man from England…was he ever successful with his serum?"

Jefferson shrugged. "Not to my knowledge. He was younger when I knew him and still working on it. He always claimed it was missing something, but you might know more about him than I do."

"Would I?" he questioned with a small chuckle. Where would he ever get an idea like that?

Jefferson sighed as he looked around the tower and then scowled. A second later he wandered back in and over to a table where he kept a familiar bag. It was the one that he kept all the trinkets Jefferson had given him that led to other worlds. Though he had used it over the years, it still sat on the same table that Jefferson had left it. It was almost in the exact same spot. He watched as Jefferson opened it up and rummaged through it for a moment, before pulling out a small beaker of brilliant blue liquid. He took the beaker and set it down in front of him with a sigh.

"I guess you wouldn't," he stated, before leaving the room. The implication was clear. That was his portal to another world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, you can wave goodbye to Jefferson because this is his last appearance in this fiction. Just like Belle has a conversation with him in Moments, I wanted Rumple to be able to have this time with him as well, pretty much for the exact same reason. I planned these conversations because Jefferson had to know how they felt about each other. In order for him to free Belle and know that it was a good form of revenge he had to have knowledge that they loved each other. Mutual love. It's not just a silly girlish crush in Belle that is not reciprocated. It's not just male hormones gone wild and unwanted in Rumple. It's a deep mutual love. He had to see it even if they didn't see it or didn't want to see it. The conversations he has with both of them give him that insight. That being said, fun fact about this chapter, I have no idea whether his conversation with Belle comes before or after this one. That's odd. I pride myself on knowing these characters super well, knowing their responses, their habits, and thus their timelines. And yet Jefferson...I can't get a handle on him. Did he see his daughter to bed, eat his soup and just happen to run into Belle while returning the dishes, and then go talk to Rumple? Or did he see his daughter to bed, eat his soup all the while getting more and more suspicious, then go talk to Rumple, and finally use the soup bowl as an excuse to talk to Belle? I don't know! I go back and forth deciding it's one way and then another. But really, when I stop to think about it, being mysterious and tricky, well...it's sort of the most Jefferson thing he could do, right? So...your thoughts? What do you think? Does he talk to Belle first? Or does he talk to Rumple first? Your guess is as good as mine.
> 
> Thank you to RolfB and MissBansheeAbby for your comments on the last chapter. I do hope this question answers one big one that I've been getting lately. How do we get to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, not only how does he get to that world, but how does he find out about him (them?) and decide to go. This is how. Jefferson's return opened this up beautifully, and I'll talk with you a little bit more in the next chapter about why I put it here instead of earlier. Also, I do have a nice little surprise for you, sure came as a surprise to me, after all. This is not the last time you're going to see Jefferson. I know, shocker, right?! This chapter is the last time you'll see him in this fiction, and I had it planned this was going to be his last appearance, but apparently Jefferson hadn't had his last word in yet. Where will he pop up again? How long until you see him? Those are very Jefferson questions to ask now, aren't they? Peace and Happy Reading!


	167. The Good Doctor

The morning after Jefferson and his daughter arrived, they left. Just as the sun was coming up, he heard them stir from their rooms, pack the little they'd brought with them, and leave without saying good-bye to him and, apparently, to Belle as well. For when he sat down to breakfast that morning, and Belle brought their food, he noted four plates instead of her usual two.

"My, my, my…are we eating for two?" he questioned.

"I figured our guests would be hungry and might be joining us."

"They won't be," he informed her as she set his plate down in front of him. "They left early this morning, long before you rose. I'm afraid it's just the two of us again."

He watched carefully as she let out a breath that almost looked relieved. Not exactly what he would have expected to see on her face, especially now that she wasn't permitted to go back to the village to meet new strangers. But then she smiled and shrugged.

"It's not the worst thing in the world…" she muttered before taking her seat.

No, it wasn't, and that was exactly why he was leaving. He informed her then that he was planning on being out of town for a couple of days and would be back when his business concluded. She'd asked where he was going, he was helpless to joke with her about how she'd have to wait to find out with her next book. He couldn't leave soon enough. Because the truth was that he'd spent the night thinking about it, thinking about her, and he'd come to a conclusion. He had to do something. The way he saw it, he had two options. The first nearly brought him to tears. He could send her away. How many times had he been back to that option? How many times had he considered it? And how many times had it always fallen through because he didn't want to do it? Because he couldn't imagine his life in this castle now without her? He was losing count. And now he could add another tick to that tally. He couldn't do it. The idea of separating from her, of sending her away, never checking in on her…it was too painful to ever allow him to follow through, at least never completely.

And so there was one last option-Jefferson's idea. No, he hadn't named it in so many words, but he knew the man well enough to understand what he'd been hinting at the night they'd talked. Go to this place called "England", find the man, Dr. Jekyll, see if he'd perfected his serum. If he had, he'd use it. Control over his inner beast, that was what he needed. He needed to bring the Dark One closer to the surface. He felt strongly that whatever he felt for her was a human reaction, but the Dark One, if he could be given more control, wouldn't let himself be drawn to her as he was. The Dark One wouldn't feel such weakness as the human did. That was, of course, only a theory, one he hoped he'd get the opportunity to discuss with the doctor. So, after telling Belle he was leaving, he let a small amount of the liquid Jefferson had poured out for him hit the floor. A portal opened, and he jumped into a world that was quiet unlike what he was used to; streets lined with stone instead of dirt, black efficient carriages, men with tall hats and strange jackets and pants. At least the women wore clothes that looked familiar…more or less. Their dresses-

To his right, a woman screamed. He whipped around, trying to figure out what she might have been looking at, but when he turned, he found that it was him. He was the reason. Her eyes bulging as she stared at him, pointed, and then drew her hands back and let loose another ear-piercing scream like she'd just seen a ghost or a dragon or some monster from the depths of an ocean. He disappeared. It wasn't as easy as it always was, an indication that though magic existed in this realm it was weak, similar to what he'd encountered in the Land Without Color. He'd have to use what he had sparingly. Of course, the irony of it was that in order to do his hunting for Jekyll, he was about to use a great deal of it to hide his appearance and himself from the citizens of this world, at least until he found the doctor.

It took him two days. Two solid days of exploration, hiding, wandering, sneaking in and out of places to get his answers. In the end, he'd found him because someone he'd passed on the street muttered his name, the name Doctor Jekyll. If he'd heard him right, the man was working with him. He promptly followed the man to a place called "hospital," where he found people wandering the halls without clothes. Men were tied to beds in one wing with thick leather straps. Some of them were lost in a stupor; others thrashed about screaming obscenities as women and men dressed in white ignored them as if it happened every day! That was where the man on the street worked. It was also, apparently, where Doctor Jekyll worked. He wasn't what he expected.

After two days of searching only finding him with a little luck, he'd already put together that he wasn't well known, something that didn't bode well for the potion-serum. Jekyll was a doctor, it seemed, but not a paid one. He volunteered at the asylum. Following him around all day told him that he was no more or less talented than the other doctors around him. A scrawny thing, standing just a bit taller than he was, he was pale in a sickly way with a stench that made him think the only thing he excelled at was perspiration. If he were to touch him, he imagined his skin would be quite clammy. He had straight sandy hair too long to be short and too short to be long. He wore thin round glasses, had a face only a mother would love, and noted that the clothes he wore were hardly what the rich of this world were wearing.

He followed him home that night, sneaking in through the door behind him. He intended to sneak up on him in his home, but when he arrived he saw that "home" was more laboratory than dwelling. There was a small cot off to one side, and a rack of clothing mostly copies of what he wore now just in different shades, though he noted that when he arrived home, he pulled off a few of his "finer" things and began to dress, allowing him to explore his "home" a bit more. There was a fire in the grate and a couch on the far side, but those were the most "homey" accommodations he saw. It reminded him of his tower. Aside from those few comforts he was surrounded by flasks and baubles and beakers, holding liquids of various colors in numerous quantities. He'd meant to speak to him, talk to him about what Jefferson had told him about, but before he could, the door to his apartments opened. A woman strode in as if she was at home, and Jekyll barely blinked an eye. A wife? He saw no ring on her finger, though perhaps this was a world that didn't follow that tradition.

"Thank you for arranging this, Mary," he stuttered out as she fixed the odd-looking stock around his neck.

 _Bow tie._ The Seer whispered.

What an odd thing to wear…and "bow tie"…he supposed he could see where the "bow" part came from, but the "tie" bit was a mystery.

"I-I can't tell you how much this means to me."

How had he been able to guess he'd be one to stutter? Still, their interaction at least gave him something useable. She wasn't a wife. His tone was too strained. He was more comfortable with Belle in the room than Jekyll was with…Mary, was it? However, the way Jekyll's heart raced as she touched him certainly suggested that she meant more than friend. But hers didn't. Her pulse was even and calm, there wasn't a hit of desire in her smell which suggested to him that she didn't feel the same way about him that he did about her. Unrequited love. It made this interesting, no matter how much it was threatening to ruin his own life.

"There's no need to be nervous," she responded to his pathetic stuttering. "Father's going to love your work!"

As if on cue, the door opened again and this time a man a few inches shorter than Jekyll entered.

He recognized him. He'd been lurking around this strange place for days, and he'd seen this man before. Very few individuals in this place stood out, but he did because of what he'd caught him doing. He'd seen him with a woman late last night in an ally outside of the Science Academy. He'd been with that woman in such a way that even he thought it was dirty. Fortunately, he'd arrived on the tail end of their dalliances and when they were done, they'd talked about going to a ball tonight. They'd joked about passing each other in the night and having another little tryst before it all began, when her husband got in and she could easily wander away from him and he could wander away from his wife. "There's another lovely little alleyway outside the Science Academy that should keep us in shadow. All the world shall see, and none shall know." As much as it had made him gag, the woman seemed interested. Exhibitionists…what a terrible little fetish and yet…it was something to keep in mind.

He watched as pleasantries were exchanged between Mary, Jekyll, and her father who was called Dr. Lyndgate before he questioned "Now, what's so important I had to be pulled away from scotch and cards at the Academy?"

He snickered...it wasn't just scotch and cards he was missing, he was certain.

"Ah! Allow me to show you, right over here," Jekyll motioned. "This serum, once perfected, will be capable of separating a man's personality in two and dividing the higher, more noble aspects of his nature from the primitive beast of which every man is born."

"Intriguing."

Intriguing, indeed. It was perfect. A more perfect night to spy he could not have chosen. For now, he had no need to interrogate the man before him, just listen to his presentation on a serum, which, he noted, was still not done. Jefferson said it was missing something. He rather agreed. He was certain that he could provide that "little something" just as he'd given a "little something" to his other doctor-friend, the question was, what would he do if the serum worked?

"Imagine if man were in control of the beast within, rather than slave to it!"

"How can you be certain your serum wouldn't make things worse?"

"It can't get any worse for Henry's patients," Mary explained. "They have no hope at all."

"Dr. Lyndgate, if I had the Scientific Academy behind my work-"

"So that's what this is about, you want me to grant you membership to the academy!"

"Well-"

"I'm afraid I can't offer it. Your work is dangerous! Good evening, Dr. Jekyll! Come, Mary!"

Well…that had escalated quickly.

The girl looked back and forth between the doctor and her father before crying, "I'm sorry" and chasing after her father. And then…something interesting.

Jekyll's heart began to race, he watched as he began to huff and puff so hard he wondered if he might blow the fire out, but instead he picked up one of his beakers and threw it into the fire so that it exploded. It was then that he strode over to the window and peered out at it. Oh, that was very interesting. What had Jefferson said? He was a man at war with himself. Oh, he may say he wanted that serum for his patients, but he wondered if there wasn't someone else he wanted it for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've finally made it to Jekyll and Hyde, which might come as a surprise to some of you. I think a lot of people tend to want to put this earlier in the timeline, but here is my reasoning for putting it so close to the end of the Beauty and the Beast Section. There really isn't a point of reference for this section other than what Rumple tells Belle in Storybrooke. He went to Jekyll when she became the maid because he'd begun to have feelings for her. So, yes, when you hear it like that, it certainly sounds like it belongs in the beginning of the section, but here's the thing. The key here is his comment about beginning to have feelings for her. In order to do this, he has to recognize that he's having those feelings. And it's true, we've been here in the comments elbowing each other and giggling because we could see how far gone he was practically from the beginning. However...just because he's been having those feelings doesn't mean he's recognized them. I would argue it's only in these last 10-15 chapters that he's really started to recognize and accept that what he's feeling for her isn't male hormones gone wild, but real feelings. He's denied what he's been feeling for long enough that I think putting this bit here, is totally acceptable given that fact. In fact, I think that when you consider it that way, putting it anywhere else would seem wrong.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB for your very kind and supportive comments. I'm so glad you liked the last of the Jefferson Chapters. I really enjoyed listening to your theories on who Jefferson talked to first. Peace and Happy Reading!


	168. Dr. Jekyll's Mr. Hyde

"Looks like someone's lost control of their inner beast," he commented, stopping his spell and revealing himself for the first time. His jaw dropped as he looked upon him.

"Who are you?! How did you get in here?!" Jekyll balked, finally finding his voice when the shock or him wore off. He couldn't tell, was he more afraid of his appearance, or that he'd just appeared by magic in his...was this supposed to be a home?

"Doesn't matter, dearie! But what does is that unlike that blowhard, Lyndgate, I am here to help you!" he joked, stepping forward to tug on his bow tie much like Mary had. An intricate design but…not one he fancied.

"I-I don't even know you! Why would you help me?!"

"Let's just say I have a vested interest in your work," he answered mysteriously. He wanted this serum to work, but more importantly he wanted to see what it would do if it did. "Now, do you want to get into that club or not?"

"How?" he asked with interest. The monster inside of him stirred just as Jekyll's had; monsters always did when there was blood in the water.

"Have you ever stopped to consider what you think of as weakness is really... strength?" he questioned, playing with a magnifying glass similar to the one Victor had in the Land Without Color. He set it aside. What was it with doctors and magnifying glasses? "Perhaps using that serum to get in touch with your deepest desires is exactly what you need."

"Even if you were right, the serum isn't finished. I-I can't get the active particles to suspend in..."

He ignored him as he blathered on. He used his magic to find what was missing from the potion. And then he used his magic to fix it. The doctor shut his mouth the moment his potion began to glow. He knelt down beside it when it finished, gasping and sputtering about in fear and wonder.

He laughed.

"All science needs is a little magic. Congratulations, dearie. You're a genius!" he laughed playfully hitting him on the shoulder. He was certain given his sickly color it would bruise. "Now, if we can just get that pwetty young friend of yours to finally notice you," he commented, walking back to the window.

"You mean Mary?"

"Oh, she's right within your grasp! The question is, how far are you willing to go to get what you want?" As far as he wanted him to go. Sometimes it was all too easy to get them to play into his hands. For, just as he wanted, he watched as dear Henry raised the bottle to his lips and swallowed down a mouthful.

The effect was almost immediate.

Jekyll began to scream as the serum coursed through him. The shirt on his back ripped, a seam split at the side of his pants. His either short or long dirty blonde hair began to recede and turn black, skin turned impossibly paler, and he watched as Jekyll clawed at his throat to pry off the bow tie that would have choked him if he hadn't. He tossed his head in the air and howled like he was a wolf instead of a man. There was something blue about him, something streaking through his skin, altering his face, his bones, his everything.

A moment later, the shrieking finally began to die down. The body writhed less and less with each passing second. Instead he crawled about on the ground for a moment, wriggling there like a confused worm until a hand finally slammed up on the table, followed by another. The being that had been created shook as he rose to full height, several inches taller than Jekyll had been a few moments ago. When he turned, the man in front of him presented him with a scarred face, bloody eyes, and a menacing demeanor, strong confidence the doctor didn't have before. This was not exactly what he had expected would happen with that serum. No, this was better. It was interesting. The serum would separate beast from man. Who was he staring at now? Beast? Or Man? And how would this creature, this new version of Jekyll react to dear Mary.

It was an experiment, one that it took him all of five seconds to come up with after Jekyll had said the potion wasn't done. It had the potential to be perfect for him. But first, he had to test it. The trouble was it wasn't Jekyll's theory he was testing, but rather his own.

Jekyll believed that his serum would separate a man's inner beast from his inner man. He believed it would do that too, he was hoping it would. The question was, what would happen once the two were separated.

He'd seen enough of Jekyll's life to know that his assumption was that he would be able to bring out a man's inner goodness. Good would triumph! The decent soul inside would be free, stripped of its monster's weakness.

His assumption was, that it was a foolish belief.

What he knew to be true was that monsters didn't go down without a fight. The Doctor believed the serum would bring out a person's goodness. But he was certain it would work the other way around. He was thrilled when Dr. Jekyll swallowed down that potion-serum. He was happy when he started screaming and growing, shifting and changing into something different. Not a man, but rather a beast. He just needed to test that theory and figure how who was who? And he knew exactly how he wanted to do it. Time, naturally, was short.

"Oh, now that simply won't do!" he exclaimed as the man before him faced him holding the tatters of Jekyll's clothes over his massive body. He summoned his magic and reproduced perfectly an outfit that he'd seen a gentleman striding around in when he'd first arrived. It fit him perfectly, but better yet, it made him look dashing enough to get into a party. Should he want to, of course…

"What-"

"No time for that, dearie!" he cried before the man could get a word out. His voice was now a deep timbre, a far cry from the squeak and stutter of Doctor Jekyll. It was perfect. "You have a ball to go to, and I have plenty to explain on the way. Shall we go?" he motioned to the door. The man looked around the lab, looked at the bottle he still held in his hand. Jekyll had taken only one swallow, but he wondered…how long would one swallow last. After all, one swallow of a memory potion was enough to rid one of memories for a week, one swallow of a hair growth tincture was enough to merely bring about peach fuzz.

"The serum that created you," he explained. "Best to carry it with you. You never know when you, or Jekyll, might be needing it again."

"Jekyll," he gasped. "I know that man. I know that man because…I am he!"

He looked as though he'd just discovered the moon was going to fall on him at any moment.

"Well, in a manner of speaking…shall we go? He's left me here to give all the answers you seek, but we are pressed for time!"

"You have answers."

"I have _all_ the answers…including the answer to why you are here. Everyone needs a purpose…wouldn't you say?"

His eyes widened. He nodded his head "yes" and followed after him like a puppy. Adorable, even Dr. Jekyll's monstrous side was a bit of a disappointment. But he was working on a plan in his head, one that might test just how disappointing he was and just how much different, or alike, he was to his counterpart.

He made himself invisible to everyone but Jekyll, and down on the street once more he ordered the man to summon a carriage for them where he could safely reveal himself and not spend his energy on magic. Once they were in the carriage, he explained, with carefully chosen words what the serum would do, how it was meant to bring out the worst in Doctor Jekyll, meant to separate them. It had worked and who he was now was the result. The man listened eagerly as the horses clopped along the bumpy road, making him long once more for soft dirt paths. Or at least he listened eagerly until they arrived at that particular part of his explanation.

"The worst? Why would he do that?"

"So you can do what he can't," he explained with a smile. "Your counterpart…well he's a bit ridiculous; shy, unassuming, polite."

"And I'm not?"

"Perhaps…you're all the parts of himself that he doesn't want to be. My theory is that he has the ability to get what he wants, he just lacks the…let's call it 'confidence.'"

"Confidence…" he echoed.

He nodded. The trap was nearly set. "It's the same with dear Mary."

"Mary?"

"The woman he adores more than anything. She's a threat to his work, even if he doesn't know it. She also happens to be the daughter of a Mr. Lyndgate, a man who just so happens to have the power to give Henry exactly what he wants."

"Mary?"

"Oh, no, no, no…a membership to the Scientific Academy," he pronounced with a flourish. "Lyndgate has the power but won't make him a member, and Henry is too shy to…shall we say…push."

Jekyll nodded. He appeared confused but seemed to be taking it in at least. And he…he was looking for the final piece of his trap, "the bait" he supposed. It was the right time, and a glance out the window told him he was in the right place. He knocked against the carriage, letting the driver know to stop the horses. Nursing a mild concussion from the ride, he glanced out the window and into the ally beside the Academy. He wasn't worried about being seen, what he'd gathered from the couple's previous conversation was that they liked a little danger, liked to be watched. Just so long as their faces were hidden in shadow. He wondered how they'd feel about it after all this.

"It's also the same Mr. Lyndgate that happens to be just there…" he pointed out to Jekyll's monster.

The man pulled the curtains of the carriage back and looked down the ally, to a shadowed couple in a very compromising position. With his vision, the monster might not have been able to make out details, but he could see far more than he wanted to. Mr. Lyndgate, he currently had his pants open and his hands around the waist of a woman. Their mouths worked in tandem with their hips. Her leg was bent up at his waist hiding what no one wanted to see.

He tried not to think of Belle.

"Pretty thing, isn't she?" he commented to him instead. "Young enough to be the dear man's daughter."

The man jerked the curtain closed and sat back in his seat looking distressed. "What do I do about it?"

"That is the question, isn't it?" he answered mysteriously, unwilling to give the man the answer because seeing what he would do with the information he had was exactly what he wanted to see. He knocked on the cab again and the driver urged the horses forward. They said not a word to one another as they went around the block a time or two, giving the dear old man time to finish his tryst and pull himself together before they finally pulled up to the Science Academy again and the shadows were gone. Now he'd see what this "beast" was made of.

"Are you ready for your debut?" he asked as they stepped into the foyer. He was once again invisible to all others but Jekyll. The man who'd opened the door for them continued up toward the stairs to the place he could hear music and the low rumble of voices coming from. But the beast hung back.

"I don't feel like the same man," he growled, his voice now a deep timbre. He stared into the mirror that was waiting there in the foyer. His fingers gently touched the scar that ran along the side of his face. "I-I don't look like him, either."

"Because you're not the same man," he explained. "In fact, you're not a man at all, really. You're parts of a man...the parts, scars and all, that Jekyll wanted to hide from the world." He laughed as a new thought entered his mind. He couldn't step inside that room and call himself Dr. Jekyll, no one would believe him, and he'd never get anywhere near Mary. He needed a new name, and he knew what was fitting. "As a matter of fact, maybe that's what you should call yourself...'Mr. Hyde.'"

"If you're ready, Sir," the doorman inquired, turning back from him. He disappeared from Hyde's sight just as the butler came around the corner to escort him into the ball. The giant of a man looked around wildly for him, but he kept himself hidden. He'd given him all he needed to know, now he had to let him go and see what he did with that information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True confessions. Although I really liked putting this bit of the story here for a number of reasons, I really hated writing these scenes. I would say they don't translate well but it's not really that at all. They're just not as well written as a lot of the other things. In the last chapter I gave Rumple the inner jab of "That escalated quickly", which is really tongue in cheek because when you peel theses scenes apart, when you read them, when you examine them...they escalate almost too quickly. Details are left out, important things that the story needs to work are removed. But of course, instead of having time to fix it all, at the point of season six they were really working to almost compress the scenes as much as possible so they could just barely fit in everything they wanted to fit in and it really shows in some of these scenes. I got asked in the last chapter why I had to have Rumple catch Mr. Lyndgate with the girl in such a public place. This is the reason why. Because if I didn't resort to doing something like that I couldn't see any other way the story would work, how Hyde would get that kind of information, why he would share it, etc. Oh, season six...we could write books about all the problems with it, but I feel it's already been done.
> 
> Thank you for your comments RolfB, Jenigweve, and RedTailHawkens. I appreciate them. I'm sorry this chapter is so...blah. Only two more in the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde bit and then we're back to the castle, where the storyline might not be happy, but at least it's cohesive. Peace and Happy Reading.


	169. Mr. Hyde's Dr. Jekyll

It had been an interesting night. He was glad he'd stayed to watch. In the end, Hyde had done exactly the very thing he'd wanted him to do…operate in the best interest of Dr. Jekyll while using all the traits that Jekyll did not have-or at least those he didn't show.

He'd walked in with nothing but his wits and a few very important details. He'd walked out with a membership to the Science Academy for Dr. Jekyll; a simple pin which Mr. Lyndgate had slipped into Hyde's fingers when he'd threatened to tell his wife about his very slippery affair with the younger lady.

It was a win for Dr. Jekyll's Serum, one that gave him such hope! The darker side had won out. Only one thing could have gone better…the issue of Mary.

He'd slipped the information about her being a threat to Jekyll in yesterday at their carriage ride and though he'd been subtle about it, he'd still expected the man to do something about it. He had rather hoped that while he was getting Jekyll his pin, he'd go a step further and banish the girl, approach her and tell her off, yell at her to keep away from the good doctor. Not only would that have been in Jekyll's best interests, or at least those he'd informed Hyde of, but it would have proved that this serum could cancel out feelings of love and even admiration.

But that hadn't happened. It seemed that yesterday Hyde had one goal and one goal only that was to get Jekyll membership into the Science Academy. That was fine. It was the easy target. He'd given him more than enough information to take down the father but only just touched on Mary. It might need a bit of…persuasion. There was only one problem. The oaf was currently sleeping the day away!

He'd returned to Jekyll's loft in the wee hours of the morning with his membership pin in his pocket. Almost as soon as the door closed behind him noted that Hyde was beginning to grow sluggish. He'd used random pieces of furniture to support his weight and make his way over to a bed, shattering countless beakers and vials along the way as he slipped and groaned in his path. He'd only just made it onto a couch similar to Belle's when his body was wracked with violent spasms. Suddenly the suit he'd given him was ill-fitting, his hair grew and lightened, the pallor of his skin brightened a bit as he transformed back into Dr. Jekyll, and there he'd been ever since, so completely asleep he was nearly dead to the world. And he was tired of waiting.

"Rise and shine!" he screeched with a laugh as the sun came up.

Jekyll jerked awake with surprise at his rude awakening and then groaned as he looked around and put his glasses back on.

"Well, well, someone had quite the night."

"I did?" he asked excitedly. "What happened?"

"Check your pockets," he laughed. The boy rushed to his feet and did as he ordered, pulling out the long slim gray box that Lyndgate had handed to Hyde only hours earlier.

"An Academy pin?" he shrieked with so much excitement he thought he might wet himself. "I did it! But how?"

Technically, the doctor had done it with a serum that he'd created so saying he was responsible was hardly true. However, he did owe the heavy work to his darker alter ego, so in a way…

"Well, it seems your other half can be quite persuasive."

"Oh, it really worked!" he exclaimed, stomping his feet like a child who had so much energy they didn't know what to do with it. "Do you know what this means? Everything's going to be different now...my...my ideas, my work."

"Just one thing missing," he interjected before he could get too ahead of himself.

"You mean Mary…" Jekyll assumed correctly. The pin might have been Jekyll's goal, but it was only one part of his experiment and considering the personal stake he had in it, it was the less important part. He needed to do a bit more prodding to get his answers. He needed to bring Hyde out again, and that meant convincing the doctor to take his own serum again.

"You know, that party was filled with suitors. You wouldn't want any of them scooping her up before you had the chance, now, would you, hmm?"

"She doesn't even know how I feel," Jekyll whined, using perhaps the worst argument he'd ever heard but one that suited his purposes.

"Why don't you tell her?"

"Well, I wouldn't know how."

"Just swig some more of that serum and let Mr. Hyde do the talking for you!" he suggested with a smile, mentioning the serum as casually as possible so that the man wouldn't think anything of the request.

"Mr. Hyde?!" Jekyll questioned almost angrily. "My other half has a name?"

"Yes. He couldn't very well walk around calling himself Dr. Jekyll, now, could he?"

Jekyll paused for a moment, his brows furrowed, and he gathered his breath in his lungs. "Wh-wh-why do you care if I end up with Mary?" he asked suspiciously. "You still haven't explained what it is you want."

"Well, isn't it obvious? I'm interested in that serum," he smiled, giving it a point.

"Why?"

"Because I need it!" he screamed. His own inner beast came roaring to life as he rushed forward and put his hand to his jaw. The boy tensed under his grip, automatically pulling his shoulders up to his ears as though he might save him from strangling. Fool didn't even take note that his hand was in the wrong place to strangle him. However, the way his heart beat and the sudden sweat that came over him certainly signaled that he'd gotten the message. That was good because he was tired of answering questions. He wasn't about to tell him about Belle, he wasn't about to share what he felt for her with anyone. All he needed was to test the serum on this one last thing, get the doctor to recreate what he had and then add the magic he had, and he'd have his answer, his cure for all her temptations. He needed to get this done!

"Now...one success proves nothing," he pointed out gently, removing his hand from his throat, straightening his suit jacket and putting a finger to his chest. "Two? Well, then we'd know you really had something. So, what do you say, Dr. Jekyll? Ready to let Mr. Hyde back out to play?"

Fearful, Jekyll stepped away from him. He swallowed hard as he glanced down at the box in his hand and then back up at him; a bold move taking his eyes off of him even for a second. Perhaps he was braver than he thought, but for the sake of his experiment, he didn't need to have that encouragement at the moment.

"Hyde got me this?" he questioned, holding the box up for him to see.

"It took only a few moments," he confirmed.

"And Mary…you think…y-you think he'll be able to say what I can't?"

Undoubtedly.

"Only one way to find out…" he tempted in a singsong voice, then summoned the serum in his pocket into his hand and tossed it at the doctor. He caught it. Then he drank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another straightforward scene that had too little information to assume what we needed to assume. I did my best with it. Any questions?
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I promise the next one is a bit more interesting as we wrap up this little experiment of Rumple's. Spoiler alert, it doesn't end the way he wants it to. Peace and Happy Reading!


	170. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

He didn't know what to feel. He didn't know what to think. When he'd gotten Jekyll to take the serum again before going out, he'd been interested and hopeful. He'd informed Hyde that Jekyll had brought him back because he was pleased, he'd gotten him something that he couldn't for himself. Now he was rewarding him by giving him time to do as he pleased.

"Now, if only he could figure out what to do about Mary…" he remarked sullenly.

"Mary…the one he loves."

"Oh, yes…funny thing about love. It can all too easily become a weakness, a danger to your other half, and you, of course."

"How could she ever be a danger to me-to him?" he corrected quickly.

"Well, love is weakness. The good doctor is intelligent. He has the ability to make that serum that makes you live, to heal countless men who are suffering in that clinic he works in with his experiments! But you think he'll want to pursue his work if he has Mary around? Surely not!" he scoffed. "They'll spend their free time in one another's arms, enjoying the finer things in life before children come about and of course once children come into the world, he'll have even less time to let you come into the world. In fact, he'll probably forget about his work altogether."

Hyde thought about that one. He could see it in the way his eyes roamed from him to the floor in front of him and the way he lifted his hands and looked at them like he'd never seen them before. Trap set and baited…now it was time to play.

"Oh, but how foolish of me, your time is limited until the serum wears off! And listen to me blathering about!" He waved his hand and dressed him in another fine outfit as he had last night. "Go, have fun, explore the night! After all, with that girl around, we can't tell just how many of them you'll have left, can we? No…"

A moment later, Hyde left his quarters, but he wasn't alone, not like he thought he was. He'd followed the boy to watch what might happen as he sought out Mary. He expected it would be like last night, that he would be able to intimidate her, push her away, scare her so much that she might run into the arms of some handsome young doctor daddy would approve of. Instead, his stomach had turned as he watched Hyde confront her.

They talked. She smiled and stepped around him while he circled, the pair of them doing a careful dance until she took a step closer and soon enough he was smiling as well. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. They were courting. He knew what it looked like, but it was only by seeing it from afar that realized the motions were all too familiar.

Courting…was that what they'd been doing all these months, he and Belle? Had they been courting like that? Well, maybe not exactly like that, but the smiles, the small touches, the companionship…it was uncomfortably familiar and yet…uncomfortably unfamiliar at the same time.

When he saw them kiss, he was ready to hit something out of rage and envy. Did Hyde know how long he'd wanted to do just that? How long he'd wanted so badly to pull his Belle into his own arms and kiss her just like he was doing with Mary, how long he'd fought that part of himself?!

When she snuck him into her apartments, and he heard their pulses increase exponentially, he was so jealous he was nearly ready to give up and go home. It wasn't just because Hyde, in two encounters, was suddenly living a fantasy he'd been too afraid to claim for himself for months. It was also because it signaled a failed experiment. Jekyll loved Mary, in taking the serum, he'd hoped that Hyde would not, and yet it appeared the attraction had not faded. It had remained. That was no good for him. Nothing could ever come from that, not for him. He could take the serum and try and purge Belle from his thoughts…it wouldn't work.

He'd left them alone. He knew well enough what a man and a woman, kissing and groping alone in a room with elevated heartrates meant. He didn't need to see it for himself, and unless Mary inherited a terrible habit from her father, he imagined they didn't want to be watched. He spent the night walking the streets of this realm, wandering about, trying not to think about how he'd promised Belle a book, and then, morning came, and with it, news that had him shaking.

He felt numb. He felt…he didn't know what he felt. Joy? Fear? He couldn't choose between the two.

Mary was dead.

He'd turned his attention away for two seconds, let them have their fun, and by this afternoon, word of Mary's death had spread all around town. No…Mary's murder. He nearly had a panic attack. Hyde…he'd killed her? The last he'd seen of them, he was certain they were about to fall into bed. Had he been wrong about what happened last night? Had he been courting Mary only to take advantage of her and murder her? Was that how he had planned to get her out of his life? That was very bad news for him. If he had murdered her, it suggested that the serum had worked, but it still meant he couldn't use it. He wouldn't. He'd hoped that this serum of Jekyll's might be able to help him with Belle. He'd hoped it might be able to help him live with Belle and without the distraction she was. He'd hoped that the serum might help him stop thinking of her, stop craving her, stop wanting her attention and to make her happy. Or else he'd hoped it might give him the ability to finally dismiss her. But he didn't want her dead. He didn't want to kill her and the thought that he might have a hand in stopping her life…he couldn't do it. He wouldn't.

He had to know what had happened, what, exactly, had gone wrong and for that, he had to find Jekyll or Hyde… Fortunately for someone new to the idea of murder, especially one that was gossiped about as this one was, he knew where to look first. To his surprise, the being he saw in Jekyll's lab wasn't the doctor, but his counterpart. It was Hyde. He was packing a few things away in a small chest as all scared first-time killers did, he was preparing to run.

"Going somewhere?" Hyde looked up at him with sad, scared eyes that made it difficult to believe he was the monster inside of Jekyll; seemed more like the man than the monster. "Just when things have gotten interesting. News of what you've done to that poor girl has spread like wildfire throughout the city. We really let the animal out of the cage with you, didn't we?"

"I didn't kill Mary!" he screamed at him, sounding more like a damsel in distress than a giant beast. But distress was a key component to a first murder. It could be scary for the perpetrator. And since Mary was dead and he'd seen Hyde with her last night and now he was here this morning…

"You're gonna have to do better than that," he laughed, putting two and two together.

"You have to believe me," he cried, advancing on him. "It was Jekyll!"

"Such passionate defense!"

"I could never," he spat, his back and chest spasming like a child who couldn't catch their breath when they cried. Like a child who was genuinely upset. "Not to Mary."

He felt what little hope he'd had fall. Hyde hadn't killed her, but Jekyll had? Because Hyde couldn't. Because…

"You loved her."

"Very much."

Fuck.

One stupid little emotion he couldn't seem to outrun had now caught up with Hyde too! And now…now he had no choice in what happened with Belle! One failed experiment had sealed her fate! And he, surely, would not be given the benefit of spending a night with her as Hyde had spent with his paramour. Did he not know just how much he'd been depending on him?!

"How can you be so weak?!" he growled angrily. He flung his arm out and used his magic to grasp the man about the neck so hard he fell to his knees in an instant. He'd failed him. His brilliant plan, his hopes, his dreams, all depended upon him going to Mary and telling her never to come near him or the doctor again! He hadn't planned on the doctor's love for her invading the darker half, he hadn't planned on that darker half sleeping with her and then falling in love with her himself, and he certainly hadn't planned on the doctor being so angry he killed the woman! Love was foolishness!

"Now all of this is failure...complete and utter failure. My experiment has been a waste. I should end your miserable life right now! But..."

He released him. Finally able to breathe again, Hyde fell back onto the floor, paler than usual, which was an accomplishment with his tone. He could kill him, he was an experienced killer thanks to his darker half and did it all the time without blathering about like an idiot. But there were punishments worse than death. If he had to go home and figure out a way to send the person he loved far away from him and learn to live with that…then he should learn to live with it too. In a few hours, Hyde would dissolve into Jekyll, the single potion he'd crafted would come to an end, and Hyde would disappear inside him never to return. And Jekyll…he'd live forever with the knowledge that he'd killed the love of his life. It seemed like a fair trade all around!

"Your fate is worse than death. You shall have to share a life with the weakness inside you." But only so long as Jekyll lived. Only so long as no one hunted him down and persecuted him for this murder. He had an idea, one that would assure Jekyll got away and had to live with this for as long as he would have to, in a land where time stopped. It too was a Land he had access to thanks to Jefferson. But it, unlike the others, wasn't a one-time thing. It was almost too easy.

"What is this all about? Why did you do this?" Hyde cried out, writhing on the floor his face still red.

"My reasons are just that…mine."

A bang on the door, authorities, forced him to act. In a flash, he grabbed Hyde off the floor and took the small chest into which he'd placed Mary's necklace. He used the remaining bit of Jefferson's blue formula to take Hyde back with him through the portal and back into his Tower. Just as the man began to sputter and scream at the sudden change of realm he let him go. He didn't help him. He didn't explain to him what had just happened, especially when it was about to happen again. He reached into the bag Jefferson gave him, pulled out the Key to the Land of Untold Stories, summoned the door in a flash, and opened it. Hyde continued to scream, to cry out "no!" as he opened the door and used his strength to deposit him in front of it.

"Please!" he begged on his knees, his hands clasped together in front of him as if he were praying. Tears…Hyde had tears. And Jekyll had killed Mary. Which one was the beast and which one was the man? It was impossible to tell. And either way, it didn't matter. It couldn't help him. "Please don't do this. Kill me instead!"

He shoved the small chest he'd taken with the necklace inside of it into Hyde's hands. "Good day to you, sir."

With one booted foot, he gave a half-hearted kick, but it was all he needed to send Jekyll and Hyde tumbling into the portal to live long lives with the knowledge of what had happened. And he-

"Rumpelstiltskin…"

He waved his hand in front of the door and banished it from his sight, but most importantly her sight. By the time she reached the top of the steps, he'd pocketed the Key. "Oh! Your back. You weren't gone as long as you said you'd be, is everything alright?" she inquired delicately. "I thought I heard screams."

"Everything is fine, Belle," he answered darkly. "I'll be along to dinner in a few moments."

After a pause, she left. He stifled a cry of anguish. The serum was a failure.

He knew what there was left to do about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-o! You made it through Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde! Again, I did what I could with this chapter. The hardest part was getting the pair to the Land of Untold Stories since we never saw that part.
> 
> Thank you RolfB and PiGeek for your comments on the last chapter. I really am happy you've found these chapters to be satisfactory given what I started with. Up next...well...up next we have the remainder of the 1x12 scenes, which means we're going to get a Rumbelle high soon enough; probably the biggest Rumbelle high of their time in the Dark Castle. But of course that high also brings about the Rumbelle low. Ready? Then let's move forward. Peace and Happy Reading!


	171. What She Knew

Belle had to go. With the serum a failure there was simply no more getting around it. He was too close to her, he wanted her too much. And it was getting worse by the day. It wasn't just how he acted when he was around her that worried him, but now it was his thoughts that he found disturbing. He wasn't just thinking things that could be easily excused male hormones run amuck. He wasn't just thinking of inadequate sex like he'd experienced with Milah or the raunchy urges he'd had with Cora. Her presence brought out something different in him, something tender-a word he would never have thought to describe himself with in the last hundred years, and yet here he was. In his imagination, he wasn't just seeing himself kissing her, though he did plenty of picturing that, he saw them laying together in bed, talking about idle prattle. He had the urge to stroke is fingers through her hair and rub her back. Then last night, the unimaginable...the words _"Will you marry me?"_ had popped into his head seemingly from out of nowhere. His pulse began to thud rapidly against his chest and he broke out into a cold sweat. It wasn't the voice of the Seer in his head…it had been his own. Ordinarily, that wouldn't have been considered a strange phenomenon, especially when he'd sat in his chair picturing the woman downstairs as he was. But crisp and clean as the words were with a slight echo, in an undeniable, unquestioning tone…suddenly his curiosity as to whether or not the things he saw in his head were boyish fantasy or vision became a fear.

How often had he seen something in his head of her wearing clothes that were not from this world? Were these truly just fantasies? Or could they be images of the future? The brown-haired woman in the bed beside him, he'd had one questionable fantasy of rolling over and finding it was her…but could it be her? A vision? Not a fantasy. Truth? His future? Theirs?

It didn't matter. It didn't matter because it wasn't going to happen. Belle had become a distraction he couldn't afford to have in his life. He had to remain focused on Baelfire and yet, one little talk with Jefferson had changed everything. Funny, he would have thought that a fear like this would have been enough motivation to stay away. Yet, he found that all he wanted to do was talk with her, be in the same room as her and despite knowing that he shouldn't give into those urges he found he couldn't help himself. He found himself doing a lot of things lately he'd never done before either; like asking whether or not she truly was happy here with him, as Jefferson suggested. And he wondered whether or not he had anything to do with that happiness or if it was merely liberation from a society she hadn't wanted to live in. Had she truly cared for that brute of a man, Gaston? Did she miss him? Long for him? Did she go to bed each night with images of him in her head as he did with her? His stomach turned as he thought of those moments, and a new thought came to him. Did she ever think of him as she put her hand between her legs…just as he did with her?

A distraction. Curiosity was a good thing, but worry was the opposite, and he was getting so close to the end of all this he couldn't afford to make a mistake now. With the experiment a failure, with no discernable way to change himself, he came to one last option. His only choice was to get rid of her. It was a ridiculously simple answer considering how long he'd agonized over it. But it was his desire not to do it, to find any other option that told him it was right.

He had questions. How should he do it? Should he simply free her or find her more work? Where would she go? Back to her father? He thought not, but he couldn't be sure. Should he get her a house somewhere with a library and let her do her work there? Make some kind of deal with Regina to make sure she was protected when the Curse hit? Should he just kick her out, give her a few coins to start a new life, and let her be angry with him? Perhaps that was best. The less he knew about where she went after the castle was best.

But the real question was when. When would he do this? The answer was simple and yet too difficult to fathom. He should do it as soon as possible. But three days after his return from the England Realm, nearly a week after Jefferson had stopped by with Grace, nothing had been done. He was putting it off, he knew, but that was the worst thing he could do. The second worst thing he could do was continue their relationship as if he weren't trying to figure out how to get rid of her. He was doing both.

She still slept in her new room every night, he still moved her chair for her and she ate her breakfasts and dinners on the far side of the table. He still smiled every time the clock signaled that it was tea time. He always paused and considered not going down to see if he could make things easier and yet here he was…in the Great Room again, happy to see her for tea.

She'd been picking up some stray straw from his wheel when he stepped in, and she seemed unaware of his presence until he helped himself to tea. When she turned and saw him, she smiled. Oh, her smile made him feel like nothing ever had.

There was nothing to talk about today. No book that she'd been working on since he hadn't brought her one from England, no people they needed to argue about, no upcoming plans that they needed to discuss. He'd figured that like most days she'd sit in her chair and he'd sit in his, they'd drink their tea, perhaps have a small conversation about the weather, and then go their separate ways. She startled him when she followed him around the table and jumped up onto it. He let out a small "oh" with a gasp as she crossed her ankles, one over the other, and allowed them to swing in front of her.

"Why did you want me here?" she asked after a moment.

He tried to hide the way his heart had stopped at that question. It was an odd one, nothing like she'd asked before, nothing like anything they'd ever talked about before. And she'd asked it with such seriousness. Did she know? Did she have any clue what was going on in his mind right then about getting rid of her? On the one hand, he didn't know how she could know, but on the other hand, he wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if she did. She was gifted like that.

"Place was filthy," he joked before taking a sip of tea. He watched her carefully, trying to see if she'd let on to anything, but all she did was smirk with amusement. Her body language told him nothing.

"I think you were lonely," she stated boldly, nearly making him choke on his tea. "I mean, any man would be lonely."

Lonely…first his heart had nearly stopped now it took off again at a speed that would make a prized thoroughbred jealous. She knew something. But what? Was it to do with sending her away or was it something else?

"I'm not a man," he corrected, leaning up against the table beside her despite the fact that every voice in his head, every cell in his brain was telling him to get away from her. If she sensed what he thought she did, then being closer to her wouldn't help things. It might make them worse.

Still, he longed to know; not to guess but to actually know! What was it that she knew? Why had she asked these questions? Why was she bringing up loneliness?! The image of her in white flashed in his head again. Was it too late?

"So, I've had, um, a couple of months to look around, you know. And, uh…upstairs…there's uh…clothing. Small…as if for a child?"

Women. She was everywhere now, wasn't she. From why she was there to loneliness, and now onto a subject he'd rather not divulge to her, but…maybe that was it! Maybe this was what she knew! He hadn't spoken Baelfire's name, not in her presence, but they'd had conversations that revolved around him. Two that he could think of, one on Bae's birthday and the other when they'd stood in front of that mirror and she asked about his family. But if she knew, then why was she asking? He hadn't said much to her about his son, hadn't given her details, but that wasn't out of the ordinary. He didn't like to talk about his son around others for fear they'd use the information against him, but Belle…he didn't actually think she had a cruel bone in her body. And even if she did, who was she going to tell? Her friend the Blue Fairy? She already knew. The only person she'd ever come face to face with was him.

And it would be nice to have someone he could trust, to be able to speak his boy's name out loud again! What would she do if she knew? What would she think of him? How would she react? Would she care? Would she help him?

"Was it yours?" she prodded when he said nothing. "Or was there a son?"

A son. She knew. She'd gotten so far into his life that she already knew. There was no point in lying about it.

"There was," he admitted as his voice caught. He could hardly believe he'd said the words. "There was a son. I lost him…as I did his mother."

For half a second, the world seemed frozen as he waited for something bad to happen. For the image of her face to melt away before him and reveal some wicked villain who was dead set on keeping him from Baelfire and wanted to steal the Curse. Or worse, for her to touch him; to put a hand on his shoulder or throw her arms around his neck and gather him in closer as he mourned. There was no doubt in his mind that if she did that, he'd be lost to her. He'd give in to every urge, every to desire to touch and cry and kiss.

But fortunately, nothing happened. Nothing more than a sigh and a few words. "Um…I'm sorry." Two words. But they weren't false condolences that were so often passed around when someone lost a child or someone they knew. Her words were genuine. For Milah the grief was misplaced, but for Baelfire…he was sorry too. Still. Always. Forever.

"So…you were a man once," she muttered, changing the subject. "An ordinary man!"

Why did she need to know that? He couldn't be sure if that thought was his own or one of the voices, but there it was. This conversation was strange because it was about him. Not why he wanted her here or who his son was and why he was gone, she wanted to know about him! No one ever wanted to know about him. Why did she? Did she know something or not? Did she know what he knew?! Why did she want to know him in this way? Did she want to know him in any other ways as he so often imagined? As he hoped?

Suddenly she let out a huff next to him. "If I'm never going to know another person in my whole life…can't I at least know you?"

His throat was dry. He had tea, but he felt like his stomach was in knots. He wanted what she spoke of desperately. So desperately he was sick over it, but there were so many reasons why his answer to her should be "no", not the least of which was that he was going to send her away soon. Not soon enough, apparently. They got along now, but when he cast her out, how would she retaliate? His secrets were safe with no one but the voices in his head.

"Perhaps…" he muttered jokingly as he rose to face her and set his cup aside. "Perhaps you just want to learn the monster's weaknesses. Eh?! Eh?! Nanana!"

He smiled at her even as he teased, but she didn't respond. She didn't look insulted or taken back. She even ignored the finger he'd wagged in front of her face and kept her eyes glued to his own as she continued to beam.

"You're not a monster," she declared. "You think you're uglier than you are, that's why you cover all the mirrors up, isn't it?"

Her voice was gentle, but it was also undeniable. She'd gotten the last part wrong, but the first part…it was as if she was telling him the sky was blue or she was beautiful. She wasn't suggesting it as though it was outlandish, instead she simply stated a fact. To her at least. The idea that he wasn't a monster was an idea she shared with no one else in the world, not even himself. But it had been such a long time since anyone had seen him that way; looked at him as she was looking at him now! Not since Baelfire or even…

Margery. The night he'd gone back for her.

_"I still hope and pray that one day you'll find a woman who will truly see you as Milah never did! A woman who will see beyond this."_

A friend's ironic hope? A coincidence? Or strangely prophetic? Could it be her? Could she be the answer to Margery's prayers?

Or was she a problem he needed to excise sooner rather than later? Before he could respond to her, there was a knock at the door that forced them both to turn their heads. It was a good reminder.

She was such a distraction he hadn't even noticed someone had come onto his property.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a really simple scene, but I wanted to take my time with it and show the conflict that he has in his head. I wanted to show that nothing about their relationship is simple at the moment. He's overthinking. The easiest questions that she asks he thinks half to death before he answers it. I want it to seem like there is a wall there. He does want to get to know her and be with her, but Cora and Milah, the Dark Ones and the Seer, his parents, and even Margery in a way are in his head. He's been burned before, he doesn't want to be burned again even though everything inside of him is saying that it's different.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for the comments you've left me. As someone pointed out, yes, we are now in the homestretch. Less than fifty chapters to go in this fiction, can you believe it? Man, it's been a fiction, but we're not done yet! More Rumbelle is coming at you! Peace and Happy Reading!


	172. When Was Now

Outside the Great Hall the air seemed thinner but certainly darker. Was that because of her, he wondered, or was it the sun? Was it even sunny out that day? He hadn't noticed. He hadn't noticed anything but her. For all he knew, there could be a rainstorm and he'd never have known it, not so long as she was beside him. He shouldn't go back, he shouldn't want to go back to her, but he did. Badly. The presence outside his door wasn't one he recognized, and he was sure that it was someone coming for a deal, but all he wanted to do was go back in that room, talk with her, and see where it led them. As uncomfortable and curious as the conversation had made him, he wanted to finish it. He wanted this to go quick; he wanted to get it over with.

With a wave of his arm, the opened the door and was shocked to find a familiar face outside of it. Gaston LeGume! Belle's fiancé! With his sword drawn. Fool.

"I am Sir Gaston. And you, beast, have taken-"

He killed him quickly with little thought. With a snap of his fingers, he transformed the boy into a rose that now rested just outside the door in the exact spot he'd been standing. The act left him smiling, but if he was honest, he didn't really understand why he'd acted the way he had. He'd had his sword drawn and obviously meant to threaten him, but the truth was he wasn't in any danger. He hadn't felt threatened. He'd felt annoyed and angry. That boy had been there when he'd taken her from her father's palace. He'd watched shocked as not a single person, including Gaston, had tried to save her or stop him. And he chose now to try? To not even try to attack but to stand there like an idiot, interrupting the conversation they were having on a perfectly beautiful day?!

He laughed as he picked up the rose, wondering why he'd chosen that flower. Was it because it was her favorite? The pair had been engaged, but nothing he'd ever seen in his cauldron indicated she'd really had any feelings for him. She never spoke of him. She looked at him with more passion than he'd ever seen her look at Gaston, and while that fact should have made him ecstatic, if pressed, he had to admit that she looked at brooms with more passion than she looked at Gaston. Had he even known roses were her favorites?

Some might have considered his next action cruel, psychotic even, but as he turned back to their room, he hid the flower behind his back. He got no joy or even satisfaction from secretly presenting her with the body of her fiancé; he did however, take joy in presenting her with small gifts, tokens he found that he knew she'd enjoy. He only liked to see her smile.

"Who was that?" she questioned when he reappeared a few seconds later, glad that she hadn't taken the tea away yet.

"Just an old woman selling flowers…here!" he said, presenting it to her with a small, simple bow. She gasped and then there it was: her smile. And the lovely blush that followed as she admired the gift. "If you'll have it?"

She plucked it from his fingers without a moment of hesitation. "Why, thank you," she exclaimed, taking her skirt in one hand and making a polite curtsy to match his bow. She was turning redder by the second, so he lowered his head and flourished his bow, feeling more like he was playing a game with her than giving her a gift. Even after she walked away with it, she let out a laugh and looked over her shoulder with a smile that made him think the sun could stay hidden behind clouds for an eternity or fall from the sky entirely. As long as he had that grin, he was happy. And as long as she had that grin, he was convinced that she was happy. But was she? Was she truly happy? The thought of sending her away in that moment seemed perfectly cruel. She'd never appeared this way when he spied on her in her own Kingdom, it was a look reserved for this place and, sometimes he dared to think, for him. Was it too late? Would she be forever damaged if he sent her away? Would she ever heal? Would he ever get back to Baelfire if he didn't?

"You had a life Belle, before…all this," he commented, moving forward as she flit about the room. "Friends, family, what made you choose to come here…with me?"

He sat down in his chair as she sighed and went to the cabinet across the room to fetch something. He tried to make it sound like a casual question, like he was just making chit chat, but he was hanging on her every action, her every word long before she was even talking! They'd talked about him, even if she'd been the one to do most of the talking. Would she allow a conversation about her? About questions he'd had about her from the very beginning?

"Heroism…sacrifice?" she answered after a pause. "You know, there aren't a lot of opportunities for women in this land to show what they can do, to see the world, to be heroes! So when you arrived, that was my chance," she explained returning to her spot by the table with a pair of scissors and a vase. "I always wanted to be brave, I figured do the brave thing and bravery would follow," she shrugged, snipping off the end of the rose and popping it into the vase to sit upon his table.

He felt light-headed. What she wanted…it wasn't this. She might have been good at it and she might have been content doing it, but this wasn't the dream she had for herself. It wasn't all that she was capable of. Heroism, sacrifice, bravery…he looked at her and saw all that inside of her! Seeing her now putting a flower on the table she'd scrubbed clean in the castle she'd organized; it suddenly seemed like a waste. Perhaps…perhaps he didn't know her like he thought he did. Perhaps she would have been better off going with Samuel.

"And is it everything you hoped?" he questioned, trying to disguise his nervous swallow.

"Well, ah…" she jumped back up onto the table, a little closer to him that he would have liked and yet much farther than he would have liked as well. "I did want to see the world…that part didn't really work out," she commented under her breath, giving him a look like it was a joke she was sharing. She didn't realize how it cut him. "But I did get to save my village."

"And what about your…betrothed?"

Finally, a moment of relief when she rolled her eyes and shook her head like it was some kind of ridiculous idea. She hadn't loved him then. That look said it all without the words. But the words were nice to hear too. "It was an arranged marriage," she explained. "Honestly, I never really cared much for Gaston. To me love is…love is layered. Love is…a mystery to be uncovered. "I could never truly give my heart to someone as superficial as he."

He was mesmerized by her. He couldn't stop staring at her any more than he could stop his heart from racing against his chest or his fingers from wanting to touch her. Never give her heart to someone superficial…but could she, would she to someone else? Someone layered and mysterious? Someone like him?

"But, um…you were going to tell me about your son!"

His son. He hadn't been about to tell her about his son, not when her fiancé had knocked on the door, but…

It was good she'd said those words. They broke the spell she had over him, at least the one that had stopped all his thoughts. Now that he was thinking again, he knew that he'd always be under her spell, always be impressed and enamored with her but…she couldn't stay here. She was a distraction, that was true. But she'd also never truly be happy here. Oh, he wanted everything for her, just as he'd once wanted everything for his son! He saw so much of Baelfire in her, he knew that they'd be the best of friends if they ever met. But it was because of Baelfire, because of everything his son had been and what had happened with him. He'd wanted what Belle wanted, but he'd forced him to stay and he'd grown so unhappy he left. He couldn't bear the idea that one day Belle would come to hate being here, that she'd never get the chance to live her dreams. He couldn't allow it. It was time.

"When?" was now…

"I'll tell you what," he responded, ignoring the ache in his chest. "I'll make you a deal."

She leaned forward with interest, her eyes wide and attentive.

"Go to town and fetch me some straw. When you return, I'll share my tale."

Her brows furrowed as she slowly began to process what he'd said. He could see her initial clarity morph into confusion and then into disbelief as she opened her mouth and shook her head like she couldn't believe the words he'd just said.

"But…town?!"

He nodded. He hoped it was clear. He didn't know if he had the strength to repeat himself.

She smiled, smirked as clarity began to overwhelm her again. "You trust me to come back?!"

It wasn't clear. She was proud. He'd stopped letting her visit the town because she thought he didn't trust her. That belief was wrong, but he could tell now that she'd hung onto it. All she thought this was was trust, that she'd earned his trust. And she had! Entirely and completely! And that was why this was best for both of them. He tried to remember to breathe as he shook his head.

"Oh Belle…I expect I'll never see you again."

Now the meaning was clear. Her jaw dropped, her heart raced, and the air in her lungs caught in a way that made him think she'd stopped breathing entirely. Had she? He had. The weight of the words he'd said, the implication of it, settled into his stomach like a pile of rocks that made it feel impossible to move, impossible to use magic, impossible to do anything except beg her to stay. She seemed frozen too. She just sat there, not breathing, not speaking, not even smiling in her newfound freedom. It was long enough for him to think that maybe she did want him to take it back, she did want him to beg her to stay. And then she moved. She moved so slowly it was as if she were wading through water. He thought he might have even seen tears in her eyes as she wordlessly hopped down off the table. She left, walked out of the room and toward the kitchen slowly with a hand over her stomach as if she was going to be sick. He wanted to follow after her, to make sure she was okay. But he resisted. When she was gone, he used magic to reappear in his Tower as fast as he could and tried not to cry at the loss of her.

He failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slow chapter but a really important one. This chapter is one that really makes me understand why so many wanted Rumple's version of things for so long. I really love reading the last bit from both Rumple's and Belle's perspective. It's such a quiet moment, such a terrible moment for both of them and the thoughts they both have as it happens are unique and wonderful. You have Belle not understanding why she's feeling the way she's feeling, Rumple completely understanding but trying to pretend as though it doesn't matter. It's sad, of course, but very beautiful to me in a way.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I think you know what's coming up. Peace and Happy Reading!


	173. True Love's Kiss

It was good that she was gone. It was good. It was good for him. It was good for her. It was good that she was gone.

He repeated that fact over and over to himself all evening, while he'd watched her go, while he'd tried to work, and long after he'd given up. It was good she was gone; if he thought it enough, it was possible that he might finally believe it and rejoice in it.

But the truth was he'd been sulking ever since he watched her small form walk down the long road to the gate and disappear behind the tall wooden door. He tried to believe that his sorrow too was a good thing. The sulking was what told him that he'd done the right thing by setting her free and sending her away. Now that she was gone, a thing of the past, he didn't fight the things he thought, he didn't try and distract himself, he just let himself feel it—the truth.

The truth was he had felt something for her. But the last time that had happened, the last time he let himself feel anything for anyone besides Bae, it had turned out to be nothing but an unnecessary distraction, one that filled his head with daydreams and thoughts that never had any chance of coming true in his life. When he'd finally woken up from that nightmare in disguise, he'd been left heartbroken and thrown himself into his work. Baelfire. It was all he thought about day and night, all he cared about, the only thought he needed to propel him forward.

So what if the castle suddenly seemed empty? So what if it seemed quiet and lonely? Wasn't that the way that he liked it? Didn't he prefer to be alone in his solitude? What had she done for him anyway beside give him a bit more time to work because she'd fixed meals, which had turned out to be delicious after a few weeks with him? Or leave him so much time he could spend it at the wheel with company, which was nice but certainly not necessary. She'd made him laugh, she'd made the castle a home, lightened it in a way, brightened it. But what was all that really worth in the long run?

Happiness. She'd made him happy. She'd made this eternity of waiting into something tolerable, perhaps even a little enjoyable. But with his son out there missing in the world, that was precisely the problem.

She was dangerous. He knew it. And so did the monster within him. It was probably why, even with her gone, he couldn't get his work done. Why he was still sulking and feeling guilty for still sulking. He should be working on a potion, not standing at this window, practically willing that wooden door to open again. He shouldn't have made her freedom sound like an option. The option, the possibility, the smallest of chances that she might come back was what was making it unbearable! He should have just told her to leave and never come back! He shouldn't be hoping that she would come back, but a small part of him was still hoping she would. A small part? Maybe it was a big part.

No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't come back. Whatever it was that had happened between them, whatever it was that he'd felt stirring for her, it hadn't been mutual. She was a girl. An ignorant, gullible girl next to a man of his age. He'd heard hundreds of tales of young men and women with dreams precisely like hers. They never actually accomplished what they started; he'd seen that first hand as well! It was just a feeling! A desperate lonely feeling he'd had, something that had budded from her tempting beauty and well-honed intellect.

So why did he find a small voice within him arguing with that of the beast? A voice that was neither Seer nor Dark One. Why was it whenever the beast reminded him that she was nothing but an ignorant girl did he correct it and say she was a beautiful, funny, and intelligent woman? Why had he found himself believing that she was capable of accomplishing her dreams and more? Why had he found himself wanting her to accomplish those dreams?! Because of the truth.

The truth wasn't just that he felt something for her, it was so much more than that. The truth was that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever encountered because her beauty was far more than skin deep. The truth was that while all he'd ever heard of King Maurice's daughter was that she was a beauty, she was actually the most radiant of lights because what the people didn't see was that she was just as beautiful on the inside as the outside and maybe even more. Certainly more! To say she was beautiful inside was to say she was kind, but she was more than just beautiful and kind. In her time with him, she'd proved to be witty and charming, sarcastic and loyal, infuriatingly stubborn to a fault. And brave. Possibly the bravest individual he'd ever known in his long life. And she was beautiful. She was smart, both wise and intelligent a rare and exquisite combination. The truth was that he'd found a match in her the likes of which he'd never experienced before and probably never would again. That was the truth.

And that was why he knew she'd never come back. She was gone. But he knew enough to know that he'd carry her memory with him forever, that was the impact she'd had on him, the entire reason he'd dismissed her.

He'd felt something. He'd acknowledged that, taken care of the problem, and now it was time to set his sights back on Baelfire again. It was time to sit down and move on.

And yet he couldn't. He kept his watch by the window of his tower, staring down at those gates, willing them to open just as he had all afternoon and evening. He could fool himself, pretend that she was walking along the road, coming back to him. She'd walk right through the doors and stay forever, but the figure he saw on that road was only in his mind's eye, he knew when he blinked she'd…vanish?

But she didn't. He stared down the road in amazement and wonder, blinked again, and realized that with every step the figure he saw drew closer to the castle. And…

He'd be damned. That was straw in her basket.

It was her, walking down the long road, perfectly free, and yet still baring the weight of the straw she'd collected for him. He felt himself smirk as the thoughts of the beast were suddenly drowned out by his own, very human, very male thoughts.

When she cast her gaze up upon the tower, he turned away and ran. He couldn't just stand there! He could let her know how he'd been pining for her all this time that she was gone! It was silly and clumsy, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt either of those feelings, but suddenly he found himself feeling both! Somehow he was back down in their room, the fire by her chair automatically heating for her as he sat by his wheel pretending as though nothing had happened.

He didn't want her to know he'd been waiting for her. Why? Why didn't he want her to know? Wasn't he passed embarrassment in his life? Wasn't he passed…

His heart hammered as he heard the door to the castle open and close! Wasn't he passed getting nervous by a simple girl?! Woman! A beautiful, sensitive, intelligent woman.

The moment she strode into the room, and he turned to look at her, he realized he wasn't passed anything. And as long as she was under his roof he never would be. Clearly, nerves and feeling weren't as beneath him as he'd convinced himself.

He'd let her go and she'd come back. Everything had changed.

She was gorgeous in this light. The fire, her muscles straining with her burden, and…was that a blush he saw? Why did she have to be so beautiful? Wasn't it enough that she was intelligent? Why did she have to be so tempting? Why did he have to make that particular gown with those curves, and cuts? Why had he made it so revealing?!

When she glanced up to meet his eyes, his response was jarring. He had to say something! Do something to distract her, to distract himself! He remembered he wasn't supposed to be waiting on her, looking at her. He was supposed to want her gone! So why did he feel only more and more excited with every step she took.

"Oh, you're back already! Good! Good thing!" he piqued, his voice involuntarily going up a few octaves more than he'd meant to. That had nothing to do with his crafted persona, and everything to do with the pounding in his heart. He turned away and back to the wheel, with any luck, she'd go back to read and it would just be an ordinary night. "I'm, uh…I'm nearly out of straw," he swallowed nervously again.

How was it she had the power to take a centuries old cursed Dark One and make him just as nervous as an average fourteen-year-old boy?!

"Mmm," she responded, hurrying over to him and setting the basket down on the platform. "Come on…you're happy I'm back!" she smiled, meeting his gaze through the wheel.

She knew?! She knew. No! She couldn't know, how could she? She was a highly perceptive woman. A danger! Beautiful and smart. It was her that was in danger. He really did need to find a way to get rid of her, to cast her out, to make sure she didn't distract him again! But not tonight. What was the harm in her presence for one more night? He wasn't exactly happy she was back. He was ecstatic. But she didn't need to know that.

"I am not unhappy," he found himself admitting before thinking that it was the worst thing he'd ever said. He may as well have just said he'd been hoping she'd return. And…no, there was no mistaking it now, she was blushing, a beautiful rose color that complimented her smile perfectly.

Oh, she needed to sit down. Now! She needed to go find her book, sit at that fire, and let him think of another way to get rid of her now! But the woman didn't make a move for the dungeons, or even for her room, she stepped around the wheel for the first time that he could remember. He tried to spin, to focus, but the second he felt her hands on his shoulders, her breath on his neck, and her eyes on him, he knew it was no use. He couldn't focus if he'd tried, not with her heart humming the way it was. Her heart...why was it racing like that?

"And, uh, you promised me a story," she whispered behind him.

He glanced up at her. "Did I?"

Had he? He couldn't remember. His brain wasn't moving as fast as it normally was in this place. Her distinct scent, the smell of roses and fire and lemons, was overwhelming the grain and wood.

She made a sound that confirmed he had made her that deal, then reached down and boldly plucked the string he held from his hands. She made herself comfortable next to him, too close, perhaps. She sorted her skirts around her, and he wondered how he'd never known a human body could fit there so perfectly before. Then, before he could move or step out of the space and away from her, she did the unthinkable. She reached forward and put her hand against his leg. Delicate, beautiful, slightly shaking itself. And intimate. It was such an intimate place to touch another person.

What was happening here? Why was he nervous? Why was she so nervous, too? Why was she still here when he'd released her?

She sighed suddenly, and shook her head, her hand steadying. "Tell me about your son."

His stomach dropped. The words were sobering, or would have been if they didn't make him so uncomfortable. That was the story he'd promised her. He remembered now. If she returned from town, he would tell her about himself. He'd made a mistake. He'd made that mistake before, but he knew this wouldn't be one. He could tell her, she'd understand, he just knew she would! He wanted to tell her, just like he had for the longest time, however, he just couldn't put the necessary words together. But they'd had a deal…

"I…" he tapped his fingers together, suddenly feeling nervous under her gaze. Could she read his mind? See his thoughts? Know the loophole he was about to exploit and see through it? Was this what other people felt like around him? "I lost him," he repeated, no more and no less than everything he'd let slip to her about Baelfire so far. Yet she expected him to go on, he could see it in her eyes. "There's nothing more to tell really…"

He held his breath, wondering if she'd question further, if he'd let down his guard and answer further before he had time to think about it, if he'd regret it this time as much as he'd regretted it with others.

"And since then," she went on, the grip she had on his leg tightening dangerously, "you've loved no one, and no one has loved you." Her eyes bore into him, seeing, he was sure, more than he was revealing. Love. Why had she mentioned love? Did she know that he cared for her? Did she know that when she was around he felt again?! Did she feel the same?

Despite the desperate cries of the monster within him, he found himself leaning forward, closer to her. He felt his heart flutter, his stomach twist, as he stared into her eyes trying to find the answer, trying to see it before she could, before he could even ask the question. But the answer that he continued to come with didn't make sense. She hadn't come back for him, she didn't feel it too. Did she?

"Why did you come back?" he asked, his voice no more a serious whisper between the two of them.

"I wasn't going to," she whispered back, looking him over. "But, then…something changed my mind."

Something changed her mind? What changed her mind? Why had it changed?

He had a million and one questions, but suddenly the world seemed to slow around them as she moved closer, so close he could feel her breath upon his cheek and yet…she wasn't close enough!

Before his mind could form a coherent thought, his eyes closed, and he moved forward to let her do what he'd wanted to for months now.

They kissed.

She pressed her mouth against his. He pressed back.

And it felt indescribable. It was just a kiss, just her lips brushing against his own. But it was unlike anything he'd ever experience. Less abrasive than Cora's, more meaningful than Milah's, and enough to make him forget every reason, every thought, every shout of the monster that he had to stop. A pure, genuine, heartfelt kiss. And that was when he realized he was kissing her back. He'd never felt like he was melting before, but he felt that way now. He felt dizzy, his throat dry, his palms sweaty. He felt more human than he'd felt in a long time. Since before Bae left.

It was as better than he'd imagined it would be. It made him feel settled in a way that he hadn't expected, in a way he wanted more of. The moment they'd pulled away from each other, his hands sought her waist, needing the connection with her. He wanted to kiss her again, to hold her close as he'd dreamed about, and descend into euphoria with her shamelessly. He didn't want to be apart from her for the rest of his life.

"Oh, what's happening to me," he muttered, astounded at all the feelings and sensations working their way from his mouth through his body.

Her hands were at his neck, against his cheeks, intimately brushing away hair, as he opened his eyes and struggled to find her face. Why did the room seem duller next to her all the sudden? Why was he struggling to see in the dark next to her radiant light?

"Kiss me again," she demanded, "It's working!"

"What?" Working? What was working? Why did he care what was working so long as he could kiss her again?! "What is?"

Her face came into focus, and he was aware of the brilliant smile bursting across her face and staring him down. She was beautiful and radiant! Oh, maybe it was love he'd felt all this time. How could he have been expected to recognize something he'd never felt before for another woman.

"Any curse," she muttered happily, "can be broken."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that! We finally made it! I have very mixed feelings about this chapter so I'm very intrigued by what you'll have to say about it. I think on the whole I enjoyed writing it, but there were some difficulties. I actually really loved writing the first bit with him reflecting in his tower. I loved sort of sending him into a tailspin and trying to convince himself that everything was fine as people who are so often unhappy do. I also liked bringing him to the truth of the matter and getting him to discover that he's been unable to think of her as a girl for a long time and sees her as a woman. I even liked bringing her back and setting him in that teenager type mindset of overthinking, like he's been doing for so long now. But the kiss...that's where I get sort of nervous. First, because lets face it, it's a beautiful moment and no matter what I write I feel like it's always going to be difficult to capture that beautiful moment we saw. My goal is that it has echoes of it that taps into what you felt when you first saw it. Second, it is difficult because there is a lot going on there. Not only his she kissing him and I have to contend with inner thoughts, but at this point he's also changing back into a human as the Curse breaks. The moment they begin their kiss I tried to lay a lot of little hints in there as to what is happening but because he's not aware of it, he can't really perceive that...until the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for your comments on the previous chapter. Like I said I am very interested to hear what you have to say about this one. We'll be concluding the Beauty and the Beast section shortly, so savor this while you can! Peace and Happy Reading!


	174. Wrestling With the Monster

For one moment, everything was perfect. For one precious second, his hands were on her, and hers were on him. For just one breath, they were moving closer. Oh, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her onto his lap and kiss her again and again until dawn; until he knew every curve of her body as intimately as he'd dreamed!

And then reality flared to life again. He became aware of the voices in his head screaming at him even as they grew faint, and as the darkness around them crept into his vision, there was a pain in his ankle that was growing ever more prevalent.

He felt human.

She made him feel human.

Any curse could be broken.

True Love's Kiss was the key. It could even break…

"Who told you that?!" he roared, flying away from her so quickly the stool beneath him must have flown half way across the room.

It took less than a second for him to grab hold of the magic within him and pull it closer, wrap it over him so tightly that the pain in his ankle vanished and her pale skin and wide, white eyes shone against the darkness. She was scared. But he couldn't bring himself to care. He was scared too. He was scared for what had nearly just happened. All his work, the future, everything he'd been striving for had nearly been stripped from him in that moment! And now he wanted to retreat. The voices in his head returned with a vengeance confirming what he suspected had happened. And he was terrified.

"Any curse can be broken." She hadn't gotten that from one of her books, not a line like that. Someone had told her. Who?! Who would tell her such a thing?! Who would so boldly send a child to attempt this and risk their death all at the same time!

"Who knows that?!"

"I-I don't know…"" she stuttered, looking down at her hands. "She-she-uh-she…"

"She…"

Was the person who had sent her here bold? Or just a heartless sow looking to get back at him! He'd always known that she would, ever since he'd kept that spell on her for too long! And he'd told her about Belle himself. She would be heartless enough to play this prank to ruin this thing! Bitch!

"You. Evil. Soul!" he growled, turning his back on her and looking to the mirror with the blanket covering it. What had she suggested earlier, that she kept the mirror covered because he thought he was ugly? If only. He'd kept the mirror covered to keep Regina out! To keep that ever-present genie in the mirror from looking into his life and his workshop! But now, he had words. He had more than a few words to say to her, and he didn't care if she wasn't there and her mirror received them instead! Underneath his terror, he felt rage! He felt anger! After all he'd done for her, after all he'd given her, this was how she repaid him! She truly was an Evil Queen. Probably even more wicked than that sister of hers! Without her, everything would have been fine! Maybe even better than fine! But now she'd put the idea in Belle's head, and she wasn't the type of woman to ignore it! Did she even realize what she'd done?!

"This was you!" he screamed into the mirror when he pulled the heavy blanket off of it. Scaly skin, small pupils, greasy hair. He was still the Dark One. It hadn't worked. Or else it had and he'd managed to stop it. "You turned her against me! You think you can make me weak?! You think you can defeat me?!"

"Who-who are you talking to?" Belle asked timidly behind him.

"The Queen!" he answered, spinning back around to face her. She was still pale, her hands clutched in front of her wringing nervously even her heart was racing, and this time it wasn't anything to do hormones. It was fear. She'd never been scared of him before! All was ruined. For them both. Damn Regina to hell for this! "Your friend, the Queen!"

"The-the Queen?" she stuttered.

Oh no. No, he wasn't about to fall again for batted lashes or adorable stutters. She wasn't born a maid she was born a princess! Did she honestly expect him to believe that she didn't know who the Evil Queen was?! Or think he'd believe that she was innocent in all of this?! She'd come back here on a mission, to kiss him, to break the curse on him, to kill the beast inside. She probably thought it made her a hero, but she had no idea what she'd nearly done how much she'd nearly risked!

"I don't…"

"I knew this was a trick!" he interrupted creeping closer to her. "I knew you could never care for me."

She balked at his words, looking as though they were incredulous lies when that was all they ever could be. Someone like her love him? It wasn't possible. He'd been a fool for thinking it and her denial only made it true.

"Oh yeah…you're working for her. Or is this all you? Is this you being the hero and killing the beast?"

She shook her head and took a step closer. "It was working-"

"Shut up!"

"This means it's true love!"

"Shut the hell up!"

"Why won't you believe me?!" she cried, begged, reaching out to him, but he ignored her grasp and instead grabbed her by her arms and pulled her so tight he'd bruise her and didn't care. Not after this. He couldn't care. Not ever again! She'd nearly lost him his son!

"Because no one, no one, can ever, ever love me!" he screamed in her face so that she wouldn't miss a single word, so that the point might be driven home, so that she might fall out of whatever fantasy she had of the pair of him and maybe he would too! Of course, if he wanted to make her hate him and strip her of whatever it was that had been coursing in her blood…

He let go of one arm and tugged at the other, pulling her along behind him, forcing her to go along despite her child-like shuffling and the way she tried to fight him off. He pulled her downstairs, along hallways, all the way back to her dungeon cell, the place that she'd first occupied when she arrived and had up until a few weeks ago. He opened the door and tossed her in so carelessly she landed on her hands and knees. He could smell blood, something that had scraped and deep inside of him something stirred in his soul, something like what he'd felt sitting with her a few moments ago when she supposedly had broken the curse.

He couldn't let such feelings and emotions get to him. Not ever again. So he sneered at her form huddled there in shock on the floor, then turned around, slammed the door shut behind him, and locked the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...we made it through. From that Rumbelle High to the Rumbelle Low. I honestly can't say that this chapter was easy or difficult to write. If I recall it was a matter of just sitting down one day and resolving to get it down on paper. When reading this chapter, it always helps me to remember that he certainly does regret his actions here later on. Just after they are married there's a chapter in Moments where he apologizes and tells her that he regrets nearly everything from their time together in the castle and I believe this is at the top of the list. (At least it certainly will be when I get to Rumple's side of that.)
> 
> Thank you RolfB and Jenigweve for leaving me comments on the last chapter. I know this chapter is short, and the next chapter is about this size. I did consider combining the two for a time, but at the end of the day I realized they were two very distinct chapters with two very distinct feelings and points to each. So I hope you'll hang in there with me. I'd love to tell you it gets better, but...well...yeah... Peace and Happy Reading.


	175. Couldn't and Shouldn't

Rage.

Rage.

Rage.

He was so angry, it hurt; so hurt, he was disappointed; so disappointed, he was angry.

And he raged.

The second he'd shoved Belle in her cell, something inside of him broke. He wanted the world around him to be as broken as he felt, to look as shattered as his hope was. He wanted what he saw around him to reflect the storm raging inside of him. So he had.

Room by room by room. Nothing was safe. If it was wooden, he watched it crack, splinter, and break beneath his hands. He tore fabric, watching stuffing of cotton and straw and feathers explode from their bonds. He used magic on precious jewels. He felt oblivion as they turned to dust before him. He smashed glass, shattered mirrors, broke the cabinet shelves, destroyed his tea set-

Nearly. He nearly destroyed his tea set.

He'd been at it for hours, all night and until the sun came up until he ended up back in his Great Room and began to send every last piece of the set he'd once dealt for hurling into the column: sugar bowl, creamer, pitcher, plate after plate, cup after cup after…

It was finally the chipped cup that undid him, that culled his rage and made him feel like he was back in his body. In winding it up to toss it against the column, he'd felt magic on it and remembered…it was the key to Pandora's Box…he'd made it so. But damn it all, that wasn't why the thing was fucking important.

Afraid he might change his mind and break it, he set it down forcefully on the table and walked away. He stalked over to the cabinet he'd destroyed and sat down amid the shards of glass and ruined artifacts. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to breathe while he shook with the remnants of rage. He wanted to destroy. He wanted to kill. He wanted to go back in time and change all of this. But he couldn't.

It was funny how seeing into the future worked. It was funny how he could get premonitions and see images, sense feelings, without ever really understanding them until sometimes it was too late. Whether he planned for it or not, the future came, sometimes in ways he wanted it to, sometimes in unexpected ways.

He'd known ever since he first saw that cup that it was meant to be important, he'd known it when she dropped it and put a chip in its rim, something that turned it from perfect and whole to flawed, as the Seer wanted. He thought that by making it the key to Pandora's Box, he was fulfilling her prophecy, making it important, but he hadn't been the one to make it important…

She did. It was important because of her. Perfect and beautiful even though it was flawed. It was a treasure. It reminded him of her.

He knew why he was angry. He knew why she'd upset him so much. It wasn't because he believed she was working for Regina, that thought had been far more the Dark One speaking than he was. It wasn't because she tried to trick him or manipulate him. She had, obviously! Someone, he still wasn't willing to rule out Regina, had met her on that road and told her that all curses could be broken with True Loves Kiss. If she loved him, truly, and he loved her, truly, then a kiss would break his curse. It wasn't her fault. She thought that she was helping. She didn't understand how much he needed his curse, how good it was in his life! He wasn't angry at her, she'd just been an easy target.

No, he was angry because if it was love, true love, as she implied…then that was a problem for her, a very serious problem, one that should terrify her. Because if it was true love, then he could do it! Right now. If it was love and he cherished her as much as he knew he did when he looked at the chip on that cup, then he could walk down to that dungeon right this moment, rip her heart from her chest, and cast his Curse himself. There would be no need for Regina, no need to wait. There would be no need to continue to stay so involved in everyone else's fucking lives! He could be free! He could do it and go see Baelfire right now.

But he couldn't. He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't brave enough. The idea of making that Curse excited him…but the idea of losing Belle, of taking her smile out of this world and the next forever, it broke his heart to the point of gut-wrenching sobs. He didn't want to choose Belle, or anything else for that matter, over Bae again! And yet here he was doing it, letting his son down yet again over love!

If it was love…it was. He'd been so stupid. The Seer was always right! He knew when he had those visions, he just hadn't wanted to believe it because he hadn't just wanted her around he'd needed her. That should have tipped him off. If he had listened to her warning when he'd first gotten those visions instead of feeling a need to prove her wrong by keeping her at his side, then this might not have happened. But he'd needed her to be wrong. He'd needed to keep her close to him. He felt good when she was near. He felt comfortable even when there was tension and curiosity between them. He answered her questions even when he knew that he shouldn't. And when they'd kissed…

He'd never felt so much as when she kissed him. He'd never felt so human and whole…because it had worked. It had been working. Her kiss had nearly broken the Curse of the Dark One.

Because it was true love.

And even now, he wanted so bad to keep her. He wanted so badly to go downstairs to throw himself at her feet, to beg forgiveness, to prepare himself so that the next time she kissed him, he wouldn't lose his curse! He wanted to see what this could become. He wanted to keep her and his curse and cast his Curse and go see Bae!

But he couldn't. And it was for all those reasons that it would be dangerous to keep her.

Today he was weak. Today he couldn't bear to end her life for Baelfire, as much as it killed him. But there was no telling how he would react later. He was impulsive, easily overtaken by anger and desire. What if Regina came around again and sought to use her against him? Would he try to prove her wrong by killing her? What if one day he grew tired of waiting? Would he kill her then? What if one day he irked her and she said something he regretted? What if she hated being cooped up inside as Bae had? She wasn't safe here!

And she wouldn't be happy! She said she loved him now, but he knew that True Love could be eternal just as it could be fleeting! She said she loved him, but she didn't want this. She wanted to see the world! She'd said so herself! She didn't want to spend her days lounging away in a castle day after day while he spun and kept secrets and worked magic that would one day separate them anyway!

So the question remained, just as it had for months. What was he to do with her?

He had his answer. If he was honest with himself, he'd known for a long time.

He knew what he had to do. He just didn't want to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the first chapters I ever wrote for Rumple. Not the first, but one of them. When I considered doing Chronicles and doubted whether or not I had it in me I wrote the "Test Chapters". I tried to find moments where Rumple was feeling a certain way to see if I was comfortable capturing his voice in that emotion. To be honest, a lot of those test chapters have changed and morphed from what they once were. I'd wager this chapter is probably still about 75% intact, maybe even more. I've seen a lot of theories that try and figure out Rumple's upset here; that he's angry at the Queen, that he's sworn never to love again, that the Darkness has taken hold of him. I believed in a few of those until damn near the end of season 1 when we realized Rumple gave Regina the Curse and why he needed it to begin with. Since then I've always believed he was angry for this reason. He was torn. Belle or Bae and in a way he chose Belle which had to be difficult and I could very easily imagine led to...well this...
> 
> Thank you to RolfB and MissBansheeAbby for your comments on the last chapter. I realize this might not be the chapter that you were preparing yourself for. But I really wanted a buffer chapter between Rumple screaming at Belle and Rumple sending her away. The angry montage gave me that perfect opportunity. And I know that this chapter is short, just as the last one was, but hopefully now you can see what I saw, that combining them would have been wrong. The kiss, the anger, the rage, the rejection...all of those needed their own chapters to breathe, at least in my opinion. I don't really expect you to "like" this chapter, given it's content, but I suppose because it is one of those early Test Chapters I hope you'll maybe appreciate it. We are not done with Belle yet or the Rumbelle. To be honest, this fiction never really stops being a Rumbelle fic from here on out, it's just up to you to see those subtle hints. Peace and Happy Reading!


	176. The Hardest Thing He'd Ever Do

Breathe in. Breathe out. Harden the heart, stiffen the face, straighten the back. One foot in front of the other. Hands laced in front so as not to touch anything he shouldn't. Try not to smell her. Try not to think of her. Just get the job done.

When he managed to send her away yesterday, he'd thought he'd achieved greatness. Having the strength to do it a second time seemed improbable. But not sending her away was impossible. It had to be done. He had to do it. If he had to break her heart, sever the connection that they had just to keep her safe from him…so be it.

He hadn't seen her since yesterday; hadn't done hardly anything to acknowledge her presence beyond sending her some tea at one point. When he waved the dungeon door open, he tried not to look at her, but she was a vision in blue sitting in a dark gray dungeon on the old wooden bed. Her vibrance stuck out like a sore thumb in the dank jail.

Breathe in, breath out…just don't breathe in her scent.

"So…" she whispered, giving a pause as if she had to remember how to talk after so long away. "What are you going to do to me?"

Oh, there was so much that he wanted to do. Beg her forgiveness, ask her to stay, join his life to hers and hers to his, never leave her again, kiss her once more.

The image he had of her in white dazzled in front of his eyes. He wanted that. He wanted it so badly he could scarcely breath when he thought of it. But he didn't need it. It wasn't the goal. She wasn't why he'd done all of this.

He cast the image out and summoned to the forefront of his mind his memories of his last hours with Baelfire. He drew on the memory he had of his son begging him to come with him, the sickening feeling of his hand sliding away as he was pulled into the portal, a vow that he'd made…he would love nothing else until he got his son back.

His son, that was what he needed.

He swallowed hard, raised his arm, and pointed at the door.

"Go."

"Go?!" she blanched.

He'd barely gotten the word out. He hadn't even really opened his jaw so it came out as an angry growl. It was as if half his body wanted her desperately to leave while the other wanted her desperately to stay. So he turned away from her, he purposefully stood with his back to her so he didn't have to see her, so she couldn't generate weakness in him.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"I don't want you anymore, dearie."

Not looking at her made it easier, but only just.

He felt relief and heartbreak when he heard sounds behind him, the scuffle of someone finding their footing, dusting themselves off, and then…footsteps. Footsteps that walked out of the dungeon, that faded as she walked farther away, that…stopped.

He was nearly shaking with effort not to look at her, not to see what she was doing when the worst thing he could ever have imagined happened.

The footsteps began to get louder; closer.

And then she was there. Right in front of him. So close he had no choice but to breathe her in. There were only a few inches of space that separated her chest from his, the last time they'd been this close she'd kissed him. And now the only reason he managed to stay in place was because he couldn't decide if he wanted to reach forward and grab her to him or if he needed to take a step back to stop smelling her all over again. He was a man in limbo, afraid to move forward and terrified to move back. And she…

She was upset. He knew the look in her eyes when she was angry, he'd seen it many times before. She was angry now, but it wasn't the only sentiment he recognized. In her eyes, anger and love mingled together into one emotion like he'd never seen before. How did one manage to love someone and be angry with them at the same time? How could she hold on to that emotion at all after he'd dismissed her in such a cold way, with one single word?

"You were freeing yourself!" she yelled at him with passionate tears the likes of which he'd never seen in anyone he considered close to him. "You could have had happiness if you just believed someone could want you! But you couldn't take the chance."

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"That's a lie," he managed to whisper, not even giving a halfhearted attempt to match her own tone. She was wrong, but right in a way too. She was a chance he couldn't take for too many reasons to count. And she was right, he couldn't believe someone like her could want him, but wanting to believe that she could want him wasn't even in the top five of the reasons why he couldn't take a chance on her. It was Baelfire. It was all about his son and her life and what he couldn't allow himself to do no matter how much he wanted to do it and do it with her. He couldn't. And she would never understand.

She shook her head at his reasoning and stepped closer, shortening the distance to the point that he questioned if it was too late, if he could take it back, take her back.

"You're a coward, Rumpelstiltskin. And no matter how thick you make your skin, that doesn't change."

"I'm not a coward, dearie," he lied, searching for another.

 _Sever the bond!_ The Dark Ones were screaming those words in his head. What could he say that would do that? That would get her to love him less, to make their love true no longer, so that he never had to feel the pain of this again, and she might go forward in her life and feel it no matter how jealous the very thought of it made him?!

"It's quite simple, really. My power means more to me than you."

He held his breath; hoping that was enough to frighten her away, to break her heart and get her to leave but instead-

Another step forward.

"No," she muttered, shaking her head, maintaining eye contact that made his insides burn. "No, it doesn't. You just don't think I can love you."

He couldn't think of a response. Everything he had inside of him was going to make sure that he didn't let on to what was really going on inside of him. He was trying to break her heart. How was it that he felt like she was tearing his from his chest?

"Now you've made your choice. And you're going to regret it. Forever."

Tears started to fill her eyes, and he willed himself not to do the same. Even if he had to use magic.

"All you'll have is an empty heart," she choked out as her chin trembled, "and a chipped cup."

She held his gaze for a few more seconds; just long enough to make him nearly reach out for her, to stop her from going. But then, with a quick huff she turned and left. The sound of her footsteps moved quickly away from him, down the hall and up the stairs.

He closed his eyes as she moved away, as if he could save the image of her standing before him forever. As he waited to feel her presence leave the property, he stayed right where he was, afraid that if he moved an inch he might give in and chase after her, he might just kiss her again in an effort to make it better. He might just be willing to let her take his curse from him. But then, where would he be then? Where would Baelfire be?

In his mind's eye, his memories of Bae faded to the pictures he had in his mind of Belle and himself. Belle holding a baby, Belle as the brown-haired woman in the bed beside him, Belle wrinkled and old, Belle angrier than she'd ever been, even just now, Belle with her hand on his arm as they walked together, Belle dressed in white; visions or fantasies…he had a guess as to which they were. But from where he stood right now, he couldn't see how any of them could ever be true, not after they'd just broken one another's hearts. But then…what had he told that friend of hers?

If you love something let it go; if it's meant to be…

Maybe someday…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short scene, not much to it despite it's importance, but I really wanted it to be super wordy here. I really wanted it to come across to others as though he was not with her in that dungeon but rather trying to keep himself locked away in his own headspace. I wanted him to approach this in a very sterile manner, but I also wanted it to break him while leaving him hopeful. Remember, he doesn't expect that she's going to go out there to her death, so I wanted to ask what he might hope for her and for them before that knowledge comes to him.
> 
> Thank you Jenigweve and MissBansheeAbby for your comments on the last chapter. I'm so pleased that you liked that last chapter and it made you think about what might be behind the actions that we saw! Peace and Happy Reading!


	177. His True Love

He tried to go back to normal. He tried. But more than a month later and he felt like every morning the sun came up was the morning after she'd gone. Every time he had tea it tasted bland or it was too cold, hot, too old-imperfect. Every night he spent in his tower, he held back tears and constantly found himself ambling over to his tower windows, looking into her blackened library tower, glancing down the road, wondering if she'd ever come back.

He wasn't sure if he wanted her to.

He prepared for her to do so; for that possibility alone, he found himself at the forge late one night, the name Nimue scribbled on his dagger which held a trickled of blood he'd drawn himself from the Original even as she stared at him in contempt. She knew why he was taking it, how he'd come up with the idea to make a binding spell with her blood so that if Belle did come back and refuse to leave, they'd be free to do as they pleased without having to worry about her ever taking the curse from him again. After he completed the potion, True Love's Kiss, and a number of other lesser-known "cures" for curses, would never pose a threat to him again. Only the Seer seemed saddened by it, an emotion he quickly shoved aside.

"Clever, Rumpelstiltskin...none of us have ever thought of something like this," the Original muttered in a voice that sounded like she was mocking him just as much as she was praising him. He really couldn't bring himself to give a fuck about what she thought.

"Age comes with wisdom," he explained away.

"You know it won't work for everything. You'll still be vulnerable to the dagger, to the apprentice...to Merlin."

He glared at her as the blood on the dagger slid into the potion bottle he carried with him. He knew what she was doing, what she was trying to get him to do. But he just didn't care anymore. He was the strongest Dark One now, and he hadn't let Belle go to forget about Baelfire. He'd made his sacrifice, he wouldn't make another one for anything that was less than what Belle had been.

"I won't focus on your problem until I have my son back," he informed her. "You'll have to deal with that. Now, away with you."

He banished the woman away and completed the potion that night. But it seemed to do no good as the effort seemed to be in vain. Belle did not return. He told himself it was fine, it was right. He told himself, but he wasn't sure he believed it.

He missed her company during mealtimes, to the point that he'd given up eating again. He didn't need it. Without her, he didn't want it. It was just another task. He missed her company in the evening. He hadn't realized just how much her presence had settled him until he first sat down to spin in the evening, saw her spot by the fire vacant, and wondered why he should bother. He missed her when he left the castle and he missed her when he returned, discovering that with her gone there was no one to care about his comings and goings. There was no one to talk to. No one to worry about.

There was no one.

He'd thought only about half a dozen times of going after her, of leaving the castle to find her, or even just checking on her in his cauldron like he used to, but he always found ways to talk himself out of it. Fucking True Love…it could go just as easily as I could come. He had to let it go. He had to.

So he tried. He put her cup away into the cabinet, where he didn't have to see it. He got himself a new tea set made of metal that wouldn't chip. He found reasons to go into the Great Room at times they would never have been together, he went to work in his tower during times that they would have been together. He left the curtains open, unwilling to think of time as "before Belle" and "after Belle". He made his deals. All kinds of deals. All the time. Whenever someone requested him. Even if it was easy or stupid or in the name of love. It was just something to do. It was just something to take his mind off of her.

But it never worked.

He felt Regina the moment that she was on his property. She'd arrived in his tower, as she usually did, probably expected to find him. But he was down in the Great Room. It was the middle of the day. He didn't care. It was a time of day they wouldn't have been together, so that was when he'd decided to leave his work and spin, to make tea, to listen to the empty space where the sound of pages turning should have been.

He hadn't seen Regina in months, not since Belle had been in trouble and he'd gone looking for her in the wrong place. Even after a month without Belle, he was still furious with the witch. So furious that he'd been sorely tempted to kill Robin Hood, "her heart", in retaliation. He'd gone so far as to track him down and found him with his infant son, his wife gone or dead or just missing, he'd never figured it out. He'd resisted killing him though. For one, though his gut told him he was right, he truly had no idea if Regina was the "she" that Belle had talked to, and he'd decided that he didn't want to know. He had to work with her. He still had to use her to cast his Curse and he didn't want it to get in the way. She might have taken Belle from him, but he wouldn't let her take Baelfire as well. Second, if he was destined to be her heart as Belle had been his own, he wanted to give her the opportunity to fall in love with the wretch before he killed him. Daniel be damned. He wanted her to know what it felt like to wait for something and then have it taken away and he wanted it done by his own hands. He'd waited over a hundred years to get his son back…he could wait just as long to take his revenge on Regina. So he'd resolved to leave well enough alone, to continue to work with her as though nothing again changed. But that didn't mean he was going to be overly kind to the woman.

He used a bit of magic to lock the door on the Great Hall. It was a simple spell she could probably break through in a minute. But at least she'd have to work for it. The door did eventually open, just as he'd expected she would, and Regina sauntered in as if she owned the place. He let her despite the fact that he wanted her gone.

"Flimsy locks!" she announced stupidly. If he'd truly wanted her out, he wouldn't have made them flimsy. From now on, when he saw her he had to think of his Baelfire and all she was going to get for him. "I have a deal to discuss. A certain…mermaid…" she pronounced as he turned back to his wheel. Not looking at her helped. A bit.

"I'm not dealing today," he muttered after taking a moment to will the Seer to say something. She didn't, confirming what he knew. The mermaid, whoever she was, wasn't important to the future. That being the case, he didn't really give a fuck about Regina's mermaid. He'd been making deals every day since Belle left, he just wasn't feeling particularly dedicated to helping Regina with something that didn't involve the Curse.

"Are you angry with me?"

Her words forced him to apply so much pressure to his wheel that he stopped it. And when he turned to glare at her over his shoulder, he found she was there, staring back at him. Angry didn't even begin to describe what he felt toward her at the moment. What he felt was too complicated for one word.

"What is it this time?"

He couldn't be sure she was Belle's "she". He kept telling himself that. But he didn't know who else it could have been. Was it the time he'd gone looking for Belle that had tipped her off? Or had that Genie of hers had seen the pair of them in the mirror? He would have liked to know.

"Your little deception failed," he tempted. "You'll never be more powerful than me. You can keep trying, dearie, but you're never going to beat me."

"Is this about that girl I met on the road? Hm…" Regina taunted suddenly; unexpectedly. He kept spinning, kept turning his wheel on and on but only because he knew that if he didn't, he might turn around and kill her right now. Met her on the road…he'd potentially betrayed Belle to Regina when he'd gone after her, he'd mentioned her when he'd forced her to come to the castle to get her glamor removed, he'd stood boldly with her in front of the mirror in plain view of her, but never not once to his knowledge had she ever met Belle. It was her. She'd found her on the road to town. They'd had a conversation, Regina was the one who'd filled her head, who'd poisoned what was between them. Regina was the reason Belle was gone. Without that talk, things might have been normal right now. "What was her name? Margie?"

 _Baelfire…think of Baelfire..._ "

Verna?"

"Belle," he spat out without thinking.

"Right," Regina practically growled, as if she was the one who was angry as if she had any reason to be pissed at him. She was the problem, not he. And he couldn't wait to get to Baelfire and teach her a lesson she'd never forget. "Well, you can rest assured I had nothing to do with that tragedy."

He felt his body go cold as he stopped the spinning of the wheel. Tragedy. What tragedy? What had happened here? No one knew about what happened between them. And he felt certain Belle was smart enough not to tell people and draw attention to herself. Why had she used that word?

He left his wheel and moved closer to Regina, who was helping herself to a cup of tea. "What tragedy?"

"You don't know?!" she blanched. "Well," she huffed as if she was surprised. The spoon she was using clattered against the metal tray when she set it down. "After she got home…her fiancé had gone missing."

His heart was already racing by the time Regina spoke, but now it felt as though his chest was squeezing the air out of his lungs. Home! She'd gone home?! He'd felt certain that she wouldn't, that she would have been hurt when she left him, but she was strong. She'd have picked herself up, gone out to see the world. Why would she go home? Why would Gaston's death affect her?

"And after her stay here, her…association with you…no one would want her, of course. Her father shunned her, cut her off, shut her out."

His mouth was dry, but his throat was thick and sticky. Maurice…a coward if he'd ever met one. She'd walked all the way home with nothing, a single dress and not a penny to her name! And then she'd been cast out. She'd be weak. Why hadn't he thought to check on her, why hadn't he thought to send her away with something?! Why hadn't he made arrangements?! It wasn't too late. He could still arrange something. He could find her, he could find someone to take her, he could pay for her pain, pay to make her life better! He could fix this! He just had to do it so that he stayed away.

"So, she needs…a home."

"He was cruel to her!" Regina shouted with a wicked smile. "He locked her in a tower and sent in clerics to cleanse her soul with scourges and flaying. After a while, she threw herself off the tower," she shrugged. "She died."

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't find it in him to breathe or tremble or even cry. The world seemed to have stopped. A second lasted an hour. Was this the same day? Was this a nightmare? Was this some kind of a trick? A terrible joke? Oh, he prayed she was scheming something!

"You're lying," he managed to choke out, unable to care if he showed too much emotion. His knees were shaking, he was lucky he hadn't fallen to his knees.

"Am I?" the Queen questioned without a smile, without wavering, without so much as a twinkle in her eye.

Oh…Belle.

His Belle.

He hurt. He hurt everywhere and nowhere. His heart ached. He felt as though it had exploded from his chest, that it was shriveling up second by second. He wanted to die too. He did. If the words were true he didn't care about killing Regina, for one second, he didn't even care about getting back to Baelfire…he just wanted to be alone and wither away in her chair by the fire.

"We're done," he managed to choke out through some miracle. He was walking. He was walking to the door, and he was using magic to open it for her…but he didn't feel it. He didn't feel the weight of his body coming down on the floor or the thrill of magic in his body. He felt nothing. The room was bright. He felt only blackness. "Fine," he heard Regina spit out. "I have other calls to make."

On her way to the door, she ran her finger over the table and examined it. Dust. He struggled not to wince. Even the dust reminded him of her.

"The place is looking dusty, Rumple." When she stood face to face with him, she sneered and leaned forward. "You should get a new girl."

Regina left. His air left his lungs, the beat in his heart faded, and he doubled over, putting his hands on his knees, a show of weakness he hadn't experienced since he was human. It was only fitting. She always made him feel human. Even in…

Death. She was dead. It didn't seem possible. She was a bright light a strong woman, determined! She'd thrown herself off the tower?! She'd killed herself?! What had she gone through, what had Maurice put her through that she'd broken and given up hope? And she hadn't tried to summon him?! She hadn't even called out to him to help her because…

Because he'd broken her. Just like he broke everyone and everything around him. He'd broken Bae and Milah, he'd very purposefully destroyed whatever Regina might have been to suit himself, and now Belle…

Belle.

His eyes darted to the cabinet, the place that he'd stored her cup, unable to destroy it he'd had no choice but to hide it from sight but now…he wanted that cup. He wanted to be close to her in some way. He wanted to be reminded of her. He strode over and removed it from where he'd stashed it and nearly dissolved into tears the first time it was in his hands again, the first time he laid eyes on that chip. He saw her then, just as perfect and solid as if she was there! He saw the night she'd chipped it all over again, the way her blush had crept up her chest, how nervous she'd been, how beautiful. Oh, if he'd known that he loved her even then…

He moved carefully, step after step from the cabinet to a pedestal, the one that held the phony Grail.

She was dead. She was gone. His memories of her were strong, so strong that sometimes he felt like he could still feel her close to him. She was dead, and the Seer was never wrong. That meant that the images he'd seen in his head, those that he'd been so worried about and sent her away for, were not visions, but merely fantasies. A dead woman couldn't tell him she loved him, a dead woman couldn't bear him children, a dead woman couldn't wake up in the bed next to him, a dead woman wouldn't wear white and make vows. A dead woman had no life. The shoulder he'd seen in the bed beside him, it wasn't her. But oh, how he wished it was. She would have been perfect, he'd have worshiped her! They would have had a True Love to celebrate. A True Love that never really got off the ground. He hadn't felt a thing when she died. True Love had a tendency to do that, they could sense when one life passed. But that was True Love that was allowed to flourish as theirs never had. Because of him. Because he'd feared those fantasies he'd had of her, because he'd let himself have feelings for her and develop a connection. Because he'd let her go, all for a fear of visions that were never to be. He hadn't been there to protect her.

Her death was on his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Yeah, this chapter was hard to write. It's hard to capture grief but I did my best. I also had a lot that needed to be accomplished in this chapter. I wanted to begin to summon up a bit of what we're going to see from Rumple in the next couple of sections. He's going to be on his game of course, but I also wanted to begin to portray him as a man who is emotionally spent after this. He's experienced a great high in his life that has led to a terrible loss. I wouldn't go so far as to say he's going to be dead inside because the possibility of seeing Baelfire is really going to continue to drive him. However, I wanted him from here on out to be the epitome of a man who really has no fucks to give. I also wanted to bring out a bit of self loathing to use as an excuse for why he never tries to find Belle and confirm the story with Regina. As I've said before, in a later, much later, chapter he does confess that he was stupid and really should have known she was alive because he didn't feel anything when she died. So, in order to pull that off I had to have him hit a serious low here in thinking "it's my fault, I didn't want it to be true and we lost that connection, that's why I didn't feel her die." And then of course, up top I present for you an option of why the Dark Curse doesn't break in the future when Belle kisses him. It's because he bound it to himself. Which, yes, is totally different from what he tells Belle happened in Moments Beyond. There's a reason for it. We'll get there when we get there.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter. We still have one last chapter in the Beauty and the Beast Section before we move on. And fair warning, in addition to being a filler chapter, this chapter is also going to start off sounding sort of cruel, but I promise it won't end that way. I opened myself up to writing the cruel part after I used something else for Moments and now I have no choice. So just read the chapter, let me explain at the end and then we can be on our way; not necessarily to a happier Rumple, but certainly the story will advance. Peace and Happy Reading!


	178. A Resolute Determination

_Dearest Belle,_

_I have all the possessions for which a man may dream. My castle is spacious, I have the finest of furniture, and I possess endless spools of gold._

_But I have no heart._

_Black as it may have been, I once had it working again. No. You had it working again. It was you, and it was yours. And you took it. You took it from me-my heart. You took it and you left. You hurt me, and I hate you. I HATE YOU. Because I love you, and you made me need you. And I DON'T CARE that I told you to go. You're gone! You LEFT. You're gone, and I will never forgive. Never forgive. I wish, I wish you were dea…_

He was in tears before he could finish that line. He felt like he'd been torn apart from the inside out. His body was wracked with sobs, his heart felt shredded from grief; from the loss of _her_. He'd cried so much over the last week that he felt more human than he did Dark One. He'd sat down to write this letter a handful of times since then, he'd done everything to try and fix himself, to shift the guilt from him to her, but it always ended the same. He couldn't wish her dead. Because she was already dead. He couldn't shift the guilt. Because he felt it heavy upon his own shoulders. He couldn't fix it. Because he couldn't turn back time. No one could. If such a thing existed, he would have used it so many times by now he didn't know what the future would look like. It certainly wouldn't be this, crying alone in his bedroom because he didn't feel strong enough to work or make deals or even care about what was going on in the world! If he could turn back time then he'd be with Baelfire now, Regina would be married to the King still, she might even have gotten past her anger with Snow and managed to find some happiness with the King, the Curse would still be in the vault, and Belle…

She might be dead now, no matter what. Without him in this world, the ogres probably would have taken over her Kingdom, she would have been insane after the death of her mother, and then death at the hands of those beasts would have been merciful.

But instead, she'd died this way. She'd loved him and tried to free him, and he'd destroyed her.

It didn't feel like she was dead. He felt like he was grieving, but he didn't feel like she was gone. True Love…he should have felt something. Just like everyone else who shared in true love, he should have felt something when she died! But he didn't. Maybe he would have. Maybe he would have felt something if she'd stayed and their bond had grown beyond what it was. As much as he cared for her, as much as he'd loved her it was a weak bond, a simple, single thread that connected her to him. A single kiss that would forever be frozen in time.

He looked down at the paper in front of him and felt sick. Such words. Such terrible, false words!

He rose quickly, paper in hand, and tossed it into the fire, but he'd been so upset when he stood that his hand was on fire and it was ash long before it would have hit the fireplace. Still, he fell to his knees and watched the fire burn as he cried.

He didn't wish her dead. He wanted nothing more than for her to be alive and well and downstairs reading her book or making tea. How could he ever say or think or even write such a terrible thing. He didn't wish her head. He couldn't, not anymore, but he couldn't even wish his memory of her dead. When he thought of her, of all that she'd brought to him…he'd hold onto those memories forever! He was darkness, but he felt as though he held a candle inside of him, one small tiny flame, a spark of light spurred on by the memories he had for her.

He loved her. He hadn't said the words, but she knew just as much as he did because of what had happened to him when they'd kissed.

Had.

She had known he loved her. Past tense.

But he still wished he could have told her. He wished he could controlled his temper. He wished he could have thought to bind the curse to him before. He wished he could have handled it better. He wished a lot of things.

Now here he was, still trying to shake himself out of this stupor he found himself in. Logically, he knew this was foolish. There was no use in wasting love on the dead. She might have been gone, and it might have been because of him. But Baelfire lived. Somewhere out there his boy was still alive and waiting for him. He couldn't lose sight of that!

He wished he could have told her everything about him, about Bae. If she'd known the whole story, he felt certain she would want him to be with his son, to have that love. But now the opportunity was gone. But the opportunity of getting Baelfire back still hung in the air, a very real possibility.

He took a breath, in through his nose out through his mouth. There was something good that had come out of this, something he'd discovered days ago but hadn't done much with since. She'd given him a key, an understanding of a missing piece of the puzzle. Now that he'd loved her, now that he'd been loved, he saw his task through new eyes; eyes that she'd given him. He knew what was wrong with creating a potion of True Love…it was the preposition.

People, wizards, witches, and laypeople alike, were all so hung up on creating love from nothing. It wasn't possible. True love couldn't be born out of nothing. Lust could be. With the sands of Avalon it was possible to induce complacency, but when he thought of what he'd felt for Belle, he knew that it was simply not possible to ever make a potion _of_ True Love. What he needed was a potion _from_ True Love.

If he could capture the essence of two people in love, Snow White and Prince Charming, now, at a time like this when they were deeply and radically in love with one another, then he might be able to craft a potion that would be viable. One that would stew and grow just as they would, as he and Belle never had. A potion like that would be able to get the desired effect when placed on the scroll of the Dark Curse. Better yet, if allowed to stew for years, stored in a safe place, one with magic as opposed to without, under the proper circumstances, it might have an even greater ability; an ability to bring magic to a place without it. He'd need that to find Bae.

He swallowed as he pulled himself to his feet and used the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. He had to get to work. Sitting here wasn't going to get him to Baelfire. His son was his only chance at redemption now. Belle would want him to go find him.

"Thank you Belle," he whispered as he stared into the flames. "Your life will not be in vain or forgotten. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just hear me out on this one cause it's sort of complicated. I pride myself on the fact that everything that is considered "canon" is in these fanfictions, even the tough stuff. Before season 2 released, there was a facebook game featuring OUAT. The "prizes" in that game were letters that characters on the show wrote to one another. There's one from Regina to Henry, one from Snow to Emma, Rumple to Belle, etc. I think there are eight total. According to A&E these letters are considered canon. One of those letters that was originally released was the letter that starts this fiction. The letter here appears just as it was released, cutoff and everything. Now, as you can imagine, fans were not terribly impressed with it, Rumbellers especially were pissed with it, so A&E removed the letter and replaced it with a different one (the replacement letter appears currently in Moments Seen and Unseen, chapter 15, "Standing on Her Own"). However, A&E have still stated that this letter from Rumple is just as much canon as that one. And I used the other one so I sort of backed myself into a corner and had to figure out a place to put this one. Here seemed...well...just as good as any. I needed a filler chapter here, something to connect the Beauty and the Beast section to what we have next and I figured that putting it here worked just as well as anywhere. I hope you don't mind it. I tried to get into Rumple's mind with writing it, and offer an explanation of he is a man deeply hurt by what he precieves as the death of his True Love. Get used to that because it's gonna become a common theme.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. As I said before this is the last chapter of the Beauty and the Beast Section. Six sections down, two to go! This chapter really is a bridge from this section to that section. You can probably already sort of tell where it is going story-wise, but this is also a good example of where Rumple is going to be emotionally throughout the rest. He's not just going to go back to the person he was before Belle. He's changed. You can expect to see a different version of him from here on out. And yes, that version is going to be a little sadder and a little quieter, but also a lot more focused and determined. So without further ado, on to the next! Peace and Happy Reading!


	179. An American Werewolf in the Steam Realm

The Steam Realm was his least favorite place. Period. He'd been to a lot of places in the Enchanted Forest, been all over their realm, traveled to Neverland and a Land Without Color and London and was intending even to go to a World Without Magic, but this place…this was the worst place he'd ever been to. It looked like London, the London he'd been to when dealing with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but it was dank and sinister in a way that London wasn't. It was daytime, but the sky was black. All around him he could smell fire, weapons, sickness, and most troubling of all, rotting flesh. He arrived in a forest community, one that was armed to the teeth against something he couldn't possibly understand until he'd turned around and come face to face with a corpse. A living corpse. He'd seen a great many things in his time, but few sickened him like this…thing, walking around on two legs; if he could even call them that. He was decomposing. One of his legs was missing a chunk of flesh so that he could see right down to the bone. He was missing two fingers on his right hand. His jaw was slacked open as if he couldn't close it. One eye hung from is socket by something reddish-gray while the other was fixed on him. He was so horrified he just stood there as he advanced, too stunned to run away, until-

A metal arrow darted past him and embedded itself within the last good eye the creature had. It had happened so fast he'd stood there yet again in stunned silence as the creature dropped to his knees then completely down to the ground. A child, no more than nine, in tattered clothes, ran around him and up to the creature. He pulled the arrow from his eye, pocketed it in a small quiver, then set to cutting his head off with a crude axe when he finally looked up at him. The boy gasped and it was only then that he realized he bore a striking resemblance to this particular monster, with his scaly skin and greasy hair. As the boy struggled to get another arrow he managed to make himself disappear into the tree line. He had magic in this place, not sluggish like it was in England or even in the Land Without Color. It was an interesting observation, but he wasn't in the Steam Realm for observations, he was there to find someone.

The Seer was beginning to talk to him, frequently and rapidly. He wasn't sure if he'd just forgotten how annoying she could be because he'd shut her out after being afraid she might put something in his head about Belle, or if she was just getting agitated because something was going to happen. But one thing was very certain, this time, he was going to listen when she spoke. He just hadn't realized that when she'd given him instructions yesterday, this place was where those instructions would lead. He stayed in the village for a few days, using glamor to help hide his cursed appearance from the villagers. He learned what this place was and soon learned that there were some curses even less appealing than his own.

The Steam Realm was a world in the midst of destruction, the stuff of nightmares. Unfriendly werewolves, beings called vampires that drank the blood of their victims, but most terrifying of all a creature that everyone called "the undead". They were beings infected with some kind of disease that forced them to feed on the flesh, specifically the brains, of other humans. As the disease ate at them, their bodies decomposed right along with their minds until they craved nothing but flesh. The only way they could be killed was to be beheaded, but steel arrows could temporarily stun them. It was good information to have.

The village he was at was one of the last of its kind, most people, in order to avoid the monsters, had gathered in cities with great walls to keep the creatures out. For the most part the cities were safe places but miserable. This realm knew about magic, but blamed it for most of their woes. Magic was not permitted within the cities and neither were the monsters. He shrugged as someone warned him against going, telling them that he was only a visitor.

"No one visits here," he was informed by a very confused young woman.

"Well, there's a first for everything."

And there was. The Curse that was coming for him was the reason, the first that drove him to this place, for there was someone he needed to see. Because the truth was he wasn't the first visitor they had here, there was another, and that was the man the Seer wanted him to see.

A law about magic couldn't keep him from doing it, and once he passed the stringent laws in order to get into the city, he was able to use an old spell to find his furry target…though, not so furry at the moment. Just dirty. He worked at a plant in the city, one that created coal and helped stoke the fires that made the steam. He found him there, getting off work, black dust clung to the creases in his skin no matter how hard he wiped at it with a cloth, and then…he cast his gaze to the sky, looking up as if he could see the moon through the black and smog. No one could see the moon, not even him…but he imagined that his new asset didn't need to see the moon to know what phase it was in. He could probably feel it.

"You don't belong here, dearie!"

The second the man stepped into his home he used magic to take himself inside and met him in his pitiful little kitchen. The man was quick. He pulled a knife from a drawer, tossed it in the air, caught it properly, and…he'd already used his magic to get to another place in the room for his own protection. A knife wouldn't kill him, not that knife at least, but he didn't particularly need the distraction.

"Nice try, but it'll take more than that to rid the world of me."

The man gasped as he turned to face him. He eyed him with distrust, looked him over, and then lowered the knife, but certainly didn't put it away.

"It would seem you don't belong here either...Dark One. What do you want?"

"Ooh! I do love it when I make an impression across the realms."

"Only with me. My father was of your world, he told me stories, it nearly killed him!"

"Ah, but you're not of my world!" he pointed out. "You're not even of this one. Tell me, who's idea was it to come here, yours…or his?"

The man opened his mouth to speak but instead just ended up breathing hard before he took a step back. "What's it to you? What do you know about me? What are you doing here?"

He smiled. "Interesting that you have questions. I have questions too. It's what brings me here on business, your business. Tell me," he pulled one of the little wooden chairs out from his small table and sat down in it, his back straight, his gaze unflinching in his direction to show interest. "How did a werewolf such as your father find his way to a small little Realm Without Magic, in a place called 'The United States of America'? And, for that matter, how does his son, also a werewolf, go from this United States of America, to a small city called London?"

He crossed his legs, then folded his hands and placed them on his knee, and raised his eyebrows. He was trying to be inviting, but the man just stood there, his gaze challenging his own. He had to force himself not to roll his eyes. He knew who he was, but only from stories passed down. He wasn't as frightened as someone from their world might be. That didn't work so well for just getting the individual to talk, but he did have some experience with this. He just had to find the right deal, and fortunately, he brought it with him in the form of an old deal he'd long since put behind him.

"Very well…I seek information, information on the land your father once immigrated to, information concerning the place you once called home. In return…this coin, has been infused with a solution which allows he who possesses it to ignore the harmful effects of the moon's rays. So long as you keep it in your pocket, you will remain human. Drop it…" he let it clatter to the table where it promptly rolled off and with a bit of magic settled right between the toes of his boots, "…and you'll become the monster that I assume forced you to move here."

With a gasp of desperation, the man dipped down to scoop the thing up, but he recalled it back into his palm. "Ah! You only get it when my questions have been answered."

"What kind of questions?"

"Well I've just told you-"

"Yeah, questions about America, but…what do you want to know? It's been ten years since I left, if you want an opinion about Jackie Robinson joining the Dodgers, I left before the World Series. If you want to know what's in spam, so would I! I didn't know Truman, I had no secrets of state!"

"Is any of that important?" he questioned, trying to figure out what in the hell he was talking about. It was like he was speaking another language.

"I don't know! It depends on who you're talking to, that's why I need to know what you want to know!"

What he wanted to know…about his new and future home…a million and one things. He wanted to know what a truman was and why Jackie Robinson needed an opinion about joining people who dodged…whatever they were supposed to be dodging. He wanted to know what was in spam and what it was. He wanted to know where Baelfire was, but he knew the chances of him knowing his son personally there were slim because while he knew that there was a dark haired man who knew Baelfire and this man had dark hair, they weren't one in the same. So…the question wasn't what he wanted to know, but rather, what did he need to know. What did he need to know about where to find Baelfire? Why had the Seer sent him after him? What was going to help him in the curse?

"Storybrooke, Maine, United States of America…do you know where this place is?"

"The United States of America is a country, most people just call it America or United States, or USA for short, just depends what part of the country you're from. Maine is a state up North…it's cold a lot…it's practically Canada. I've never heard of Storybrooke, but I assume it's a town."

"How big is this…America?"

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head looking overwhelmed and confused. "Forty-eight states total…millions of people I guess, I don't know, geography wasn't really my thing when I left."

Geography. The Curse was going to take care of that for him. He didn't need to know that, especially not before he left. He needed…he needed security. He had a plan with his potion from True Love to one day bring magic to that place and when it was there it would be a great resource. But before it arrived, he needed other resources to make up for it. In a world without magic, he needed power. How did a world without magic maintain that? What did he have to do to get power?

"How is power allocated? Who is in charge?"

"The President? Congress?"

Meaningless words.

"In a town like Storybrooke, an ordinary town, who would be in charge?"

"The police? Probably a Mayor? Or…well…I suppose at least technically."

"Technically? Who has the power? A mayor or police?"

The man smirked and blew a huff of air out of his nostrils. "There's no magic there so the powerful are those who have the most; most land, most money, most influence. Wherever this Storybrooke is…I'm sure it's just like every other place there. It's run by the people in charge, sometimes those people are who they seem, other times they're not."

"So if one wanted power there…?"

"Find yourself some cash, make sure you own your own land, don't rent, have a nice cushy job like a lawyer or a business owner, and then be sure to make friends in high places. And then bet on the Dodgers because my opinion is that Jackie Robinson's gonna make them fucking famous! Anything else you want to know?"

_Suddenly he wasn't in the kitchen of the man's home anymore. Suddenly he was in a desolate place, on a lake of some kind. No…he wasn't on the lake, he was on a dock. There was fog all around him, a boat attached to the dock, and in front of him a single person he had been watching so long he would have recognized her even without her hood. Snow White._

_Go now!_ The Seer ordered. _She searches for you, for a way to forget! She must forget. She must forget so that she remembers. Go now! Or all is lost!_

"Hey!" And just like that he was back in the kitchen, the voice, his vision, had ended, but his heart raced with anticipation. Another trick of the Seer's, one that she used to impress upon him the importance of time. She'd told him to come here for useful information, now she wanted him back in his own realm to meet Snow White. She wanted him there now. One of these days he was going to have to press her for a schedule.

"Anything else you want to know, or can I have that?"

Oh. He'd been nearly up and ready to leave when his voice summoned him back and reminded him of where he was and what he was doing. And the Dark Ones were there, striking magic into him, reminding him of the deal he'd made with the werewolf and the coin he still held in his hand, the coin he'd made just for this moment like he'd made Granny's cloak.

This moment…

 _"Go"_ said the Seer. So he went. _"Talk"_ said the Seer, so he talked. _"Go,"_ she'd just said again…but had he talked all he needed to? In the new world, material possessions would be his power. He needed money and influence, he needed land and to be his own boss, not magic. But of course…if he had magic, that might put him heads and tails above the rest. He wanted no surprises. He needed no surprises.

"When they call it the Land Without Magic…"

"It's mostly true. No magic, at least none like what you're used to. But they have belief and miracles. Sometimes it's just as strong as magic, sometimes less. Belief in werewolves was enough to keep my father and I changing, at least until he died, hunted down like a monster. I wished for a world I'd belong…ended up here. I didn't realize my kind here were monsters and everyone would be afraid of me like they are, that I'd have to hide as much as I do."

"Ease your conscious…" flips the coin at him. He catches it in one hand and looks it over.

"Will this thing really work?"

"Hold tight to it next full moon, and you'll find out. One last thing, how did your father get to a Land Without Magic. It wasn't a fairy perhaps, was it? A bean, maybe?"

"Don't know," he shook his head. "My father took me when I was three, I have no memories of going, and when I asked, he never told me."

He didn't press the issue, not what he was as close as he was to getting things the way the Seer had always promised. In fact, from where he stood now he was almost certain that if he'd told him how it was done, he probably wouldn't have done it just out of a fear that he would mess up what he had, nearly a century and a half of work, all for a wild goose chase. He had to remain focused, and at the moment, that meant finding Snow White.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the seventh section, a section I have entitled: The Snow White and Prince Charming Section! Original, I know. This is the second to last section and it's about an average sized section, maybe the same size, roughly, as the Regina Section. Hopefully, after reading this chapter you get an idea of where we are in the timeline with Snow and Charming. We'll seem more of them in the next chapter, or at least we'll see one of them in the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your very gracious comments on the last chapter as we wrapped up the former section. I know that starting us out with the Snow White and Prince Charming Section in this chapter might seem strange, but there are reasons for it and I'm hoping that after you read this at least one of those will be obvious. Without Belle, Rumple is less distracted and realizes he needs to learn the currency of the land he is going to. This is why he knows to ask Regina not for a place on Storybrooke City Council but rather for land and money. A less obvious reason to send him here, specifically, is because in Moments Beyond Rumple brings Belle and Gideon to this realm while they search for the cure to his curse. He seems fairly familiar with it so I was searching for a way to introduce it for the future and it all just sort of worked out. I hope you can see the need for it and are ready for some Snowing. Peace and Happy Reading!


	180. The Fairest of Them All

A World Without Magic had no magic, but at the same time, it wasn't devoid of magic. It had belief and miracles. That meant that magic did exist, just in a smaller, weaker form. He'd grown up around magic, had it around all his life, he was the son of the Black Fairy and Peter Pan, magic ran in his veins, he couldn't imagine living in a world without it. At least he couldn't imagine living in a world without magic but with his memories. If this Curse worked as he thought it would, then there would be a little magic, small amounts that would sustain the Curse, keep them from aging once time had stopped, keep their memories at bay. But one day the Curse would break. One day he'd want magic again because he knew that once the Curse broke, they would not return to this place. A World Without Magic where belief and miracles existed…he was hoping that his brew from True Love might be powerful enough to create a canyon where a crack was. True Love could break any curse…what greater curse was there than a curse of no magic?

But he was getting a bit ahead of himself. And as for how to maintain power before he had his memories back...he'd find a way to stack the odds in his favor. It would require a conversation with Regina, but that could come any time and now wasn't right. Not only was the Seer telling him that, but so was his gut. He'd been watching her since he'd dragged himself out of his stupor of grief. Whatever she'd tried to orchestrate with the mermaid she'd mentioned before had already come to pass, now she was acting so completely unhinged he knew there was no use talking to until the madness passed. And by "madness" he meant obsession.

A blind witch had stolen an apple from the Evil Queen. He couldn't imagine why, this particular blind witch had a taste for foods that appeared particularly unhealthy. Nevertheless, Regina was running around, trying to get the apple back. Her conquest proved she'd turned nearly as heartless as her mother. She kept sending children into the witch's house to retrieve the apple for her. So far, none had come out. He didn't expect the pair she was playing with now to live either, a brother and sister who belonged to a woodcutter who'd left them alone with a compass to guide them home. They'd been easy prey for Regina. When he returned, he forced himself to look away because he didn't see the point of her desire for such a simple thing. And anyway, though he did have a need to speak with the woman, he didn't have time to do it now.

The Seer urged him onward, telling him he didn't even have time to stop anywhere before he met Snow White. She wanted him desperately to get to her and only her. And what she wanted him to bring, she whispered that over and over again in his ear. It was an experiment he'd been working on, a bottle laced with a few ingredients that had the ability to produce something special, something unique. He wanted to know what Snow needed it for, he wanted the Seer to justify giving up such a precious bit of magic. In the Steam Realm the Seer had mentioned that she needed to forget so that she would remember, but she wasn't giving up any more than that. He needed to speak to Snow White. He needed to sort out what the Seer wanted him to know.

He put the bottle in a bag that he tied around his waist, then closed his eyes. He thought of the lake he'd seen, the dock and the boat…

And he was there.

He was sitting in the boat, and she was looking for him. The Seer had said that she was looking for him in her vision and now, as he sat comfortably in her boat, he could see her looking over her shoulder and down the dock for him. Her face shrouded in her cloak, fiddling with the rope on the boat, she doesn't react to his appearance. It was disappointing. He would have thought that a woman on the run would not have allowed herself to be caught by surprise.

"How much for this?" he asked politely, his legs crossed and his back straight, trying to make her feel uneasy and uncomfortable in his presence.

She glanced at him, automatically suspicious before looking up the dock. Funny. Did she expect to see someone? Or was her mind trying to work out how he'd gotten there? Did she even know who he was?

"Excuse me?" she whispered.

"Your boat," he clarified without hesitation. "Exquisite craftsmanship."

"It's not for sale," she grumbled, continuing to tie it up.

"Of course it is, dearie! No one comes to see me without a deal in mind." Her boat tied properly, she immediately shot to her feet at his words. "So you're Rumpelstiltskin?"

Ah…so she did know who he was, she just hadn't known. He stood up, using magic to stabilize himself against the rocking boat.

"Indeed, I am," he confirmed before stepping out of the boat and taking a step closer to her. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. Wow…" he laid his hands over her cheeks and looked upon her face with his own two eyes and no cauldron or mirror between them for the first time. Well now…this was the first time they were meeting face to face. What an odd feeling, to have been waiting for her since before she was born, to have played such an integral part in her childhood and all of her life so far and yet this was the first time he actually found himself face to face with the child. Before Belle, it might have been enough to excite him, he might even have thought her a great beauty. Now it just meant he was one step closer to Baelfire, and as far as beauty went well...

"You really are the fairest of them all, aren't you?"

She swallowed hard, and he let go but didn't take a step away from her. He wanted her unsettled just not as much as she had been.

"What can I do for you?"

"I need a cure," she explained in a small but forceful voice.

"What ails you, child?"

"A broken heart."

"Ah. The most painful of afflictions." He kept a smile on his face, he was proud of that, but even as he spoke he was aware of how a sharp pain, like a lightning bolt, suddenly coursed through his own heart. It was still too soon after Belle to be talking of such things. But he hadn't much choice. He had to do this deal. "Well, I'm afraid if you want me to make him love you," he proclaimed, stepping around her, "no can do. And nothing can."

"Oh, no. That's not the problem," she cried out. "We can't be together."

"Well, that...I can help you with."

Forgetting Potion…the voices cried out fearfully. They wanted to keep him from his son from that world where there was no magic and the scales might not be tipped in their favore. For that reason alone the thought that he might succeed in bringing Snow and her Charming Prince together was terrifying to them. But to the Seer, it was something different, and she whispered into his head the answer, the key to what he needed. It was the experimental potion bottle she'd wanted him to bring from his tower.

It wasn't a Forgetting Potion, not exactly, it was merely a variation on one. What he needed wasn't Forgetting Potion, something that would well and truly erase memories, but rather a Forgetful Potion that was very specifically targeted to take certain memories and...lock them away for a bit. Like making a potion of True Love he had a theory he could guide this one to help her forget only one thing in particular…Charming. But only for a while! He didn't want the girl to forget Charming entirely. But he needed them to have some sort of love story, some reason to chase one another. This could indeed be it.

The bottle had been laced with certain ingredients to make it easier to create when the time came so that all he needed to do was add a bit of water and something to direct it and it would be done. Of course, this was all unproven magic. Making it specific to the girl, specific to her love in particular was a bit, well, experimental. But he trusted the Seer. He trusted what he'd been working on. Could he lock away her love for him only to be pulled out again at the right time? He did believe so. With a bit of her hair, he believed he could direct the potion as it needed to be, and perhaps have some left over for a little experiment of his own. This would, after all, make an excellent test of his theory for the Potion of True Love…

From within his pouch he pulled forth the small vial and dunked it in the waters before them. When he pulled it out, he judged the amount for himself. Seeing it was good, he applied his magic, heated the water, accelerated the mixing of the contents within, Snow let out a small noise as it turned cloudy. Nearly finished.

"That'll do it?" Snow asked.

"Not yet. No two loves are exactly alike. We must make this…personal!" Without warning he yanked a stray bit of hair from her head and added a bit of it to the solution. Blood would have been better, but, in theory, anything with her essence on it would work. Hair wasn't ideal, but he was hopeful it would be fine. Before it was a Forgetful Potion. Now, if he'd done his job right, it was a potion that would help her forget David and David alone. At least for now. It was something of a curse she was asking for and as Belle had so painfully pointed out…all curses could be broken.

"So, if I drink that, I'll no longer love him."

He corked the bottle as he stared at her. "The next time you see the object of your grief, you won't even remember who he is."

She took a step back. "Won't remember him?"

"Love is the most powerful magic. The cure must be…extreme."

She hesitated. "'Extreme' sounds like an understatement."

Smart girl. Perhaps too smart.

"Don't doubt yourself now, dearie!" he taunted. This was right. He had the feeling from the Seer that all was going right! He needed her to take it! He needed to scare her enough to want to take it. "Love makes us sick, haunts our dreams, destroys our days. Love has killed more than any disease. This cure is a gift."

He offered it to her, the remains of her hair still in his hand, all he'd need for his True Love concoction. T'was no gift, just an opportunity for him to make something that had never been made before.

Still, Snow looked at him suspiciously. "What's your price?"

Very clever girl.

"These'll do," he dismissed, holding up the hair in his hand.

"What do you need of my hair?" she questioned warily.

"What do you need of it now it's been plucked from your head?" he laughed, his gaze on her unbreaking. "Do we have a deal?"

For such a smart girl, she thought about it only for a second before reaching out and wordlessly taking the vial from him and holding it close to her chest.

_He saw Snow White she was hiding behind a tree as Regina's carriage rolled by, Robin's bow was in her hand, an arrow pulled back. Suddenly there was David, diving in front of an arrow. And then there was a kiss. True Love's Kiss could break any curse…_

Snow never broke her stare with him as she moved, and he was careful not to break his own, even through the vision the Seer had just given him. There weren't many people who could look him in the eye without flinching. It was impressive. Probably something she'd been taught in preparation for becoming a Queen one day. But against him, it was still just a tactic.

"I thought so. Drink it in good health, Snow White…" And with that, he turned and walked off the dock, far enough that the fog would make him seem to disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the thing, this section is probably my least favorite section. Not because I'm not a Snowing person (they're not my favorite couple but they're hardly my least. They can be quite adorable at times and I happen to love Ginny and Josh so that's really not it), but rather because this section was not built for a Rumple fanfiction. It's not so obvious in this chapter as it will be in later chapters, but Regina, Snow, and David, those are really the three main characters in this section, they do all the action, they interact with each other all the time, and even though Rumple is certainly part of their story he's not really front and center. To make things worse, even though the three characters interact with each other, the interactions are often brief. Each character really has their own thing going on and often times things are happening at similar times. So, what does that mean? It means a lot of these chapters require lots of set up. It means a lot of these chapters require summarization to fill the reader in on what is going on in another character's life (example: had to fill you in on the Regina, Hansel, and Gretal thing, trust me, it's not important for this fiction but it is in season one). And for Rumple it also means a lot of creative watching; watching through mirrors, the crystal ball, water, reflections, it's a lot! The result is chapters that are super complex, but (spoiler alert) also sort of boring because sometimes Rumple is literally just sitting there watching something happen. And don't get me wrong, because it's not really all bad, I just feel like I would be doing you an injustice if I didn't warn you a bit.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the last chapter. I'm happy my American Werewolf was received fairly well and that you saw the purpose of him being there! The purpose of Hansel and Gretel in this chapter won't be ultimately revealed until the season one fiction, as I said above, but just trust me on this, it's totally necessary. So in a way, this chapter serves as a setup chapter in multiple ways. I'm so happy I waited to write this fiction until after the series was over. I feel like it would have driven me crazy if I hadn't. Hopefully, now that we're getting down to the end of it, you'll agree with that decision. Peace and Happy Reading!


	181. Snow White's Unexpected Deception

The note he'd written to himself when he'd taken his memories away told him that Snow White and Prince Charming had met and would need watching. He'd trusted those words because they were in his own hand, never once had he ever questioned it or even tried to look in on how it had happened lest he see something he didn't want himself to see. But now that he'd given Snow White her potion, at the behest of the Seer, he found that the "watching" was imperative. And he'd never felt more alone.

In his tower day and night watching, waiting for something to happen, it wasn't just that Belle was no longer around or even alive, it was more than the fact that Regina was distracted by the Blind Witch, it was also this task. Watching, watching, watching…after a century of moving at a snail's pace, suddenly things were happening at a whirlwind. With Snow and with David, sometimes together but mostly apart, this was the time that he might have used Pirithous to help him investigate and watch, to listen to what was happening. But after how curious he'd been during the exchange with David and James he couldn't trust the boy anymore. So he was alone, watching on his own, using mirrors when he could, but mostly watching the soundless exchanges through his ball and cauldron.

Snow didn't take the potion he'd given her, he liked that. It wasn't until after they'd parted that the full danger of the potion he'd given her had slammed into him. He felt uneasy at the realization that if something went wrong, she could lose her memories of David forever and then Baelfire would be gone forever too. But she didn't take the potion. At least not right away and he felt some relief at that. He was beginning to think that perhaps she was never going to take it, maybe she just needed to learn how extreme her measures had to be to give her the push she needed. Maybe she needed to have the opportunity to lose her memories of David to realize just how precious he was to her.

He was happy when he saw her approach King George's Castle, happy that she might actually be doing something to get closer to the Prince when she was, unexpectedly, captured by King George's Army. He was sure to watch the mirrors, to keep his eye on Regina, fearing, of course, that she would be summoned for the girl. Perhaps he'd barter to get back their former trade deal? But no. Regina remained unaware that Snow was there, and George didn't seem to show any interest as he tossed her into a cell. She spent most of her time talking to…a dwarf?

Yes. The Seer provided the story for him, images… _that very dwarf hatching from his egg and being handed his axe…his name was Dreamy but…but it wasn't. He watched a brief encounter play out, a woman, a fairy trapped in a machine that he stopped, him talking to that fairy, talking to someone in a pub, meeting that fairy on a hill and tears streaming down his face as he sent her away. A destroyed axe and a new name,…Grumpy. "I'm Grumpy now…" An image of pennies pinched, wages hoarded, and then a diamond. Beautiful, flawless, so clear he could see the dwarf's reflection in it. A man in a dark cloak sold it to him in a dark alley, and he could tell just from the scene it wasn't a smart deal to make. There was something wrong with it. But the dwarf took it home. "For Nova..." he explained to a brother. "I made a mistake, with this, I hope she'll forgive me, and we can be together." And then an ambush. King George's men seizing the dwarf, taking the diamond in their own hands and examining it. He heard phrases like "Property of the crown", "it's stolen goods", and "take the dwarf prisoner" in his head as he watched soldiers throw the dwarf first into a cell on wheels and then into the one beside Snow White. He'd been there ever since._

Grumpy…what an interesting life he led for a dwarf. What an interesting role he was to play. For out of the shadow's eventually another dwarf arrived, one of his brothers, and judging by the lack of vision he had from him, he'd wager he'd had a fairly unexciting life. The dwarf freed Grumpy, and after a moment of hesitation, Grumpy turned and freed Snow White.

The trio attempted to get free of the castle. There was an argument of some kind. Then, as they were crossing the courtyard, the other dwarf was caught by the guards and died. Apparently his unexciting life was also doomed to be a short life.

Grumpy flung himself out of his hiding space, intending to go and help his fallen brother despite the fact that it was too late, but he was caught as well. And then, right on cue, Snow White revealed herself, sacrificed her own freedom for the dwarf's, earning herself a meeting with King George.

He would have expected it in the jail, or back in her cell or somewhere else, anywhere else other than inside the castle proper. He led her silently through halls and chambers and rooms that neith of them knew finally coming to rest in a hallway with a door behind them. That was where he turned. That was where words were exchanged. He moved to his mirror to get a good sight, but by the time he cast the enchantment to hear, the encounter was over. Snow was already going into the room, and he was about to tap into a different room to listen.

She wore a smile on her face when she first saw him, but it quickly faded as she closed the door and alerted the False Prince to her presence. For the longest time, there was nothing but staring. Staring and walking. She came closer, he stared. She stared at him. He stared back in utter disbelief.

"James…" she finally whispered, her voice husky as if she was holding back tears.

"Snow…"

"I got your letter."

"You came. You came!" And then he rushed at her. In a movement too quick for her to prepare, he strode forward, swept her up off her feet and into his arms. He twirled her around and though she seemed uncomfortable, upset, and panicked at first, it faded. As he held her, he watched her sink into him, her head bending into the contours of his shoulder, holding tight until he set her back down. "You came. You came."

And then the mood changed. David leaned in to kiss her, and he knew even before it happened that she was going to stop him. It wasn't a vision. It was just her body language.

"Wait, James. Us? It can't happen."

"Wh-what's wrong?" David stuttered in disbelief. "Of course, it can. You're here. We can go. We can be together. We can leave all this." He reached out, took her hands in his own in a grip that he could see just as sure as he knew they could feel it. "I know there are costs, but I've planned for everything. They can't hurt us. And now that I know that you love me too-"

"I don't."

David looked shocked, reeling back as though he'd been slapped. He couldn't blame him. She wanted him to kiss her, he could see that plain as day. But why wasn't she letting him? They were so close! True Love right in front of them! Fools! If he had a chance to do it all over again, he'd be in that Great Room by Belle's side again in a heartbeat! So what was stopping Snow? Why was she refusing him when she didn't have to?

"What?"

"Love you. I don't. I'm sorry," she stated with genuine sympathy. "You said I would always be in your heart and…that is too cruel a fate. Go live your life. Live it without me, because there is no place for us together. And fill your heart with love for someone else. Someone who can love you the way I never have – the way I never will."

She held something out to him then, something that he took rather ungracefully from her palm, a piece of paper that he crumpled up. He was crying, he realized, as she stepped around him and walked carefully out of the room. And she was crying too. Or at least she would be. He could see it in her face, hear it in the mirror that she was careful not to make a sound as she left. Only once the door was closed, and he was forced to look inside his ball, did he see her cover her mouth with her hand and weep. King George was there, but she didn't run from him. He said something to her, something he couldn't make out without the sound and then she blinked away tears and walked away as he looked on with pride.

The entire thing took one maybe two minutes, but it left his jaw on the ground. What had just happened? Why would she…

King George. It had to be. The conversation that they'd had before she'd gone into the room…it wasn't just a conversation, it was a deal of some kind. It was the only explanation he had for the way the guards suddenly let her leave the castle in peace. He'd threatened her, or him. Someone! He didn't care who he'd threatened, all he knew was that somehow King George had told her something that forced her to go into that room and tell him what she'd told him, and in return for doing it he was letting her go. Back into the woods, back into the dark, back to the group of dwarves who met her as she left.

He held his breath as Snow lifted the vial to her lips in the middle of the woods…

Grumpy stopped her. After a brief exchange of words, she put it away, and they walked on. He breathed a sigh of relief as she moved into their home and almost stopped watching when, that night, once they left her alone to her privacy, he watched as she downed it in one swallow.

"No!" he cried, turning and pushing the contents on the table behind him onto the floor. Glass shattered, books slammed against the stone, paper fluttered and droplets of ink scattered like rain. His heart raced. Yes, he'd given her the potion. Yes, he'd given it to her expecting she would take it. But he had hoped that it was nothing, that she wouldn't take it. He'd hoped that she'd keep her memories, wake up from this hopeless defeat she seemed to have where David was concerned, and go back to claim him. Apparently, he'd been wrong about that…

He'd been wrong about her. But not all was lost. He strode over to his crystal ball and summoned up a different image. The Seer had told him that she needed to forget in order to remember. Love was a two-way street. As long as one of them remembered, there was always hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is actually a fairly good example of the kind of chapters you'll find in the Snow White and Prince Charming section. Like I said, it's a lot of watching, right. But I also didn't want to give you only a summary of each episode because, let's face it, if you want that then you can find summaries on the OUAT Wiki. So with each episode I was able to find at least one pivotal scene, sometimes more but not always, and come up with a reason that he'd be able to get sound and watch it. This one was easy, there was a mirror in David's room and it allowed the scene between them to be heard. Other times I had to get a little creative, but this is how a lot of it goes. These episodes usually have one with Rumple and then a follow up of some kind. Not terribly exciting, but it is what it is.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I don't know what you'll think about this one or more like it, but I did manage to find fiendish delight in picturing the Dark One basically watching lots and lots of TV in these chapters and getting way too into it. I mean, what do you do after a break up? You sit at home and when you can't eat and sleep you binge Days of Our Lives and overreact when the bad guy manages to convince the good girl to hook up with him. Is that not what's happening here? If it makes it easier, then think of this as Rumple-Post-Break-Up. Not pretty. Peace and Happy Reading!


	182. Prince Charming's Victory

Snow White taking the Forgetful Potion had been a disappointment. But this was a love story, and as sick as it made him, he'd made peace with the idea that perhaps this was just how theirs was destined to play out. It seemed unlikely every time he thought about it, but then the Dark One falling in love with a Princess who became his servant seemed just as unlikely. Who was he to dictate their story?

So, with Snow having taken the potion and her Prince thoroughly forgotten, he turned back to watch the one person in the equation who still had his memories, who still had the ability to change their story. He found David in the cauldron and something extraordinary as well. That same night she had taken the potion, David ran away, at almost the exact same moment she took it.

He was able to watch him through the mirror in his room, but it made no difference, the Prince was alone when he'd done it and there had been nothing to hear. It was just after David had been told to continue packing for his marriage to Abigail when he'd done it. He'd looked over the paper Snow had given him and then fled; out a window, down a tower, and into the woods. The King had been quick to catch on and send guards after him, but David endured and he ran on. If he was looking for Snow, he was going in the wrong direction. The next day, still on the run from the guards, he found the Prince with an unlikely ally.

After being unexpectedly kidnapped, a bag placed over his head, he figured that King George had found him, but instead his abductors had brought him face to face with none other than Princess Abigail. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he watched as the small party got onto horses, and rode. They rode hard, all through most of the day until they reached Midas' land. That was where David's compliance stopped, it seemed. As she handed him a bag of some sort, he cast it aside. The pair talked about what, he couldn't decipher in the silence, but as they spoke he noted that tensions began to ease. Hard faces with angry sneers became soft and thoughtful. David and Abigail talked and walked through the woods and eventually they came to rest before what looked like a golden statue, but he knew it was much more than that.

He wasn't a statue, it was Fredrick, Abigail's former fiancé. He wasn't a farm boy like David, he was the Dark One, he had eyes and ears everywhere. To him, the story of what happened to Abigail's fiancé was old news, to David, it was something new. He watched as Abigail spoke to David with such an expression of sadness on her face it could be nothing besides the story of Fredrick's downfall to Charming. First, he beheld it with curiosity, then shock, and then reverence. Finally, on the False Prince's face, he saw a resoluteness and determination in his eyes that he was familiar with. David was going to try and help her. He was a kind soul, everything he'd ever seen where it concerned David always revolved around helping someone. He had no doubt that if he'd gone to take one of the twins when David had been old enough to talk, he would have volunteered his brother to go to King George and live a life of riches because that was just the kind of man he was.

And that was how, in the middle of the night, David found himself standing beside the shrine at Lake Nostos, the Lake that was known for returning lost things. Clearly he, or maybe she, thought that the waters would help. David left Abigail there and descended the hill towards it.

It was lucky for him, for while Lake Nostos might not have been a perfect reflective surface the magic enhanced it and allowed him to watch on his mirror…and listen. He watched at an odd angle, from the depts of the water he saw up, a vision that waved and rippled as the water did. David shed his cloak and gloves, then reached down into the lake to extract some of its waters, and then jumped back to his feet in alarm. A change in the wind seemed to have stirred him. A sense of magic?

"Where are you?" he questioned out loud. There was no response. "Beast!" he cried, pulling free his sword. "Show yourself!"

Sometimes a challenge was all it took. Music filled the air, and from the depths of the Lake, a woman rose. Skinny, light hair, dressed in white with a tiara of expensively looking large pearls. She rose and rose until she was full-bodied in front of David. Full-bodied and filled with blood lust. All sirens were the same. He prepared to rise and help, but the Seer forced him to continue watching. He didn't need help, she screamed, he was right where he needed to be. He hoped she was right.

"Here I am," she stated. "What's your name?"

David didn't respond, the smile he'd initially worn when she appeared was beginning to wear as she stepped closer to him.

"Would you like to know mine? Because I can be anyone you want me to be."

"Stop!" he insisted, pointing his sword at her throat.

She glanced down at it, gauging its distance, but put on a face of no fear, despite the fact that she most certainly could be killed by the blade. Sirens could go on living for centuries in their youth, but they weren't immortal. They could be killed if their attacker was swift enough and bright enough to resist their...charms.

"I know what you are. You're a siren. Your deceitful words are a spell meant to lure me to my death."

"I would never hurt such a brave, powerful man like yourself," she insisted, batting his sword away and coming close enough to brush her fingertips over chest. "Not when there are so many other things we could do…"

"I said, stop!" David growled, grabbing at her elbow and forcing her away at arm's length. "I will not fall prey to your deceptions."

"Really? You're immune to me?" she questioned with obvious doubt. Oh, and she was right to doubt. Sirens were tricky things that could see a great many things in a man's eyes. Some even said that they were capable of reading minds, but as she stepped back and gathered water up into her hands, he knew that she wouldn't have to read his mind to get to what he wanted. She presided over Lake Nostos, it returned things that were loved and lost. All she had to do was know her waters and how to work them to her will or rather the will of Prince Charming. She held her hands up and let the water drizzle over her face and body. When the water stopped flowing, she put her hands down and revealed her face. He couldn't have been happier. The form of Snow White stood before David, same white gown, same tiara, but different-what he loved most. He had known; so long as one of them had their memories, there was hope.

"Like me more now, Charming?" the Siren questioned using Snow's voice.

"No. You're not really her," he breathed, hurt and desire evident in his voice. "It's an illusion. I know it's not real."

"Sometimes illusions are better than truth," she answered, stepping forward to stand before him again. "Everything you want that you can't have, I can give it to you. All you have to do…is kiss me." She put her hands on him, up and down his shoulders and neck as she rounded him, circling him like the prey he'd made himself. Still…the Seer gave him a feeling of peace and assurance. This was right. It was all going to be all right. "I know you want to. I can feel it."

"No…"

But David's plea was half-hearted, and he watched as the Siren pulled him in down to her mouth, closer to her body, into deeper waters. His sword slipped from his hand, plopped into the lake with little fight from its owner. When they broke apart, she grabbed his hand, pulled him a few more steps into the center of the lake before David shook his head and stared at her.

"No," David he insisted with force. "I don't want an illusion. I want reality or nothing."

"This doesn't feel real?" she questioned with a desperation that nearly made him believe it. She was quick to try and cast her spell again, to step closer and put her hands on him again and kiss him once more.

"Snow…" he breathed, deep under her trance, too deep to notice that she'd just spun him around, cutting him off from his easy exit.

"That's right," she whispered back. "It's me," she kissed him. "I love you." And again. And again. Only this time he could see what she couldn't. She didn't have David in her grasp, not like she had before. He was coming out of it. His love for Snow White; it was strong.

"No," he stated as she kissed him again. "No!" he roared pulled away. "It's not you."

"Yes, it is!" she snapped as if he was crazy; a last ditch effort to maintain the illusion. "I love you."

"No. This is not real love. I've felt it, and this isn't it. I know the difference." He pushed her away, and this time she didn't fight back, didn't try to enchant him again. This time, she smirked.

"Congratulations, Prince Charming-you're the first."

And then she struck. She'd had him under her spell just long enough to separate him from shore, she had the advantage. And she took it. She pounced, forcing him under the water, dragging him down. He managed to dislodge himself from her grasp, but he didn't understand that the Lake was connected to her, to her magic. As she tried to draw him back to her, he turned and attempted to swim away, but then an arm of seaweed reached itself up, wrapped around his leg, and pulled him down again, down to the bottom of the Lake. He looked around frantically as the Siren swam to him. Then he grabbed something off the floor of the lake. The Siren got to him, tightened her fingers around his shirt, and kissed him deeply before-

Her eyes opened in wide horror, before the life in them faded. Her hands loosened, Charming was able to push away and it was then that he saw the color red encroaching on the blue of the Lake. There was a knife in David's hand…the item he'd picked up off the lakebed. David swam to the surface as the image of Snow White faded from the body of the Siren. She was dead. Her death, eventually, would take the lake with her for without her magic it was nothing. But for now…David was victorious. He watched as he took the waters of the Lake, leaving the dead Siren behind and forgotten. He was happy to have seen it. He was happy to have seen how it played out with Snow for it confirmed what he already knew. As long as David had his memories, there was hope. He loved Snow White. No matter what she'd said, no matter what she'd done to him, he still wanted her. And that look he saw in David's eyes…hope had returned. He was a man on a mission. Just like this…he would not fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I needed to get sort of creative to have Rumple listen in. The water of Lake Nostos gave me an excuse to let him listen in. Not a perfect solution, but a solution all the same. Pretty straight forward, lots of watching, but in my mind, still more interesting than reading a Wikipedia summary.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm glad you are sticking through this with me. There was really no other way to get through this bit other than to write it this way. But hey, we finally get some action from the Seer. We can see her really starting to guide Rumple, to let him leave things alone and play out without him getting involved. And we see him trusting her, doing what she says, waiting patiently. I think it comes from a place of regret with Belle. She's not really in this section, but overall I do want it to feel like she's still with Rumple, that he's changed by her and affected by her loss. Peace and Happy Reading.


	183. Heart of Darkness

David truly was a man on a mission. Without a doubt. But he was also a man of his word. No matter what was happening in his love life, he wouldn't let Princess Abigail down.

David took the water from Lake Nostos back to Abigail, who looked at it as though it were worth more than her fiancé's weight in gold. She used it immediately, and just like Winter thawed to become Spring, gold melted away to reveal flesh and cloth and iron. He'd succeeded, he was determined, and though he could no longer hear what they were saying, he'd been watching long enough to recognize certain words on their lips, and "Snow White" was one of them.

She was a topic of conversation, but they didn't talk about her with angry eyes or frustrated words. David still adored her. That much was obvious. So he watched as Abigail gave David a bag of provisions and a horse to send him on his way. But before he could go, a flash of fear in his eyes and he was almost certain that one of the words she said was "King George". A warning, perhaps.

Now that Fredrick was back, he had no doubt that Abigail would marry him. Abigail was the apple of his father's eye, he, unlike King George, was not going to force his little girl to marry someone she didn't want to, especially after all Fredrick had been through. And King George…he was rash. The King didn't know how to play a situation as the Dark One did. If he was smart, he'd milk King Midas for as much gold as he could, he'd call it collateral damage for pain and suffering and proper payment for the dragon. He could do that, he should do that. But he knew that George was more likely to seek David out. A one-time payment was a lot less than an alliance that could last a lifetime. Oh, he'd put on a good face for Midas, wish Abigail and Fredrick happiness in their marriage, tell him he was glad that everything had worked out. But in his mind, nothing was going to be as suitable as David and Abigail joined in marriage would have been. He'd look for someone to blame. Abigail, Fredrick, King Midas-all were untouchable. David, however, was an easy target. And when he found out how Fredrick had come back to life, and he had no doubt that King George would figure it out one day, he'd settle for nothing less than David's head on a platter.

The King sought David, the Evil Queen sought Snow White…they truly were a match made in heaven.

In the days that followed, he took his eyes off of the couple only once, and that had been on the Seer's orders. She had assured him it was safe to look away while he journeyed to Lake Nostos himself and poured a preservation spell into the waters. Physically, the water in the lake would fade away without the Siren, but for some reason the Seer wanted the magic preserved. He tried to press her, but each time he simply got a brief image of a well, and a strong sense that he needed to move on and trust the work was done. And, indeed, when he returned to the tower after completing his task, he found that David and Snow were just as he'd left them. Nevertheless, he returned to his vigil. He watched for days as David continued to search the woods, making inquiries, and finally managing to track her to the cottage she'd been living in prior to making her deal with him. But of course, he was already too late. And King George…he was far too close. By the time he showed up and had a conversation with Red, by the time the two of them managed to outwit the King and his soldiers who had come for David yet again, the damage was done. Snow was already living with the dwarves and the potion he'd given her had taken effect.

While the potion and their living arrangement seemed to work well at first, as time passed, he was beginning to notice some side effects. He'd made a version of a Forgetful Potion, one that would lock away memories but not erase them completely. The problem, he quickly deduced, was that in altering to remove only a person, her True Love, from her memories, it had targeted her heart, unexpectedly hardening and darkening it. He shrugged it off, there always was bound to be some kind of mishap in experimentation. He made note of it in his books and continued to watch. He continued to watch as David and Ruby pursued the Princess, getting closer and closer to where she was staying, he watched as King George pursued them, and he watched and listened, grateful for mirrors, as just when he needed the girl to sit still so David could find her, she refused.

"Snow? What are you…what are you doing?" Grumpy asked as she swatted at the bluebird with her broom.

"Getting rid of the vermin in this house," she growled. Again, she attacked the bird, a far cry from the girl that Regina had once said celebrated her ability to communicate with the birds. When it finally flew out the window, she almost seemed happy. "What do you want?"

"It's dinner time."

"I'm not hungry," she stated without interest, slamming the window covering shut. Grumpy came closer anyway and took her broom from her.

"Come on, we made something extra special tonight." He set the broom aside and grabbed her arm, practically dragging the girl into the next room. David had put up less of a fight against the Siren than Snow did with the dwarves. Not that it wasn't for good reason, when they arrived, after he'd adjusted mirrors, he saw that dinner was not in fact at the table. Only dwarves. They spoke to one another in low hushed tones…until Snow walked in, then all were silent and watched her carefully, looking somber and sad.

The girl shrugged. "Somebody die?"

All of a sudden, he saw a figure from his past, one he hadn't check in on in years but wasn't surprised was still alive. It was none other than Jiminy Cricket, flying in from a window and fluttering around her hair.

"Snow, why don't you have a seat?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, giving him a little flick. "Why is there a dirty cricket in here?"

"My name is Jiminy, and your friends have asked me to be here tonight," he stated, flying away from her and settling himself on the table. He looked good, nearly unchanged from the cricket he'd seen over a hundred years ago. Fairy magic, he hated the stuff, but he had to admit…it was rather impressive. "They're concerned about you, and they have something they'd like to say. Grumpy, why don't you start?"

Beside Snow White, Grumpy gave a swallow and unfolded a piece of paper he had in his pocket. "Snow White," he read, "you've changed. You've become angry, irritable, and downright mean."

"Changed…" she drawled, rolling her eyes at him. "And who are you to tell me I've changed?"

"Snow, please," Jiminy plead. "These are your friends. And we're all here because we…we care about you. Who wants to go next?"

Another dwarf raised his hand and took out a piece of paper. "Uh. You brought bales of straw into the house last night, even though you know that I'm…I'm…I'm…"

Another dwarf reached out and put his finger under his nose. The dwarf sighed in relief until he pulled his hand away and then-

"Achoo! Allergic," he sneezed, wiping his nose.

"You are allergic to everything!" Snow argued.

"You broke my mug!" another yelled.

"You're lucky it wasn't that mug you call a face!"

"You are the worst, most nasty, horrible-"

"Enough! Look what you're doing to Happy," Grumpy chastised. "That potion you took, the one that erased the Prince from your mind," he reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial that he'd given Snow White, the one that contained the Forgetful Potion…more or less. "You haven't been the same since you drank it."

"That helped me forget whatever, or whomever, I needed to forget. And I am clearly better off for it. That potion was the solution," she insisted, addressing the dwarves and not just Grumpy, "not the problem. The problem is that I'm living here in a house full of dwarves instead of in my palace, with my father, as a princess. But I can't do that anymore, can I?! Because he was murdered. Murdered, by the same woman who sent a Huntsman to kill me!"

"Snow!" Jiminy inserted before she could get too much more carried away. "Your anger towards the Queen is understandable. It's just not fair to take it out on your friends."

Something flickered in the eyes of dear Snow White, something that a normal Forgetful Potion wouldn't have caused, something that he'd never expected to see in that little girl's eyes…revenge.

"You're right," she agreed, stepping forward to address the cricket. "I should be taking it out on her."

"Oh, wait! Revenge is not the answer. No, it's going to change you. It'll turn you into something darker than you can imagine. You don't want to go there-"

But the rest of what Jiminy attempted to say was cut off by the Princess taking a glass dome over some fruit and fitting it over the bug humorously. He was stuck. Crying out from within as she ignored him.

"Good news, fellas! You can quit your complaining, because I'm leaving. I have more important things to do." She moved around the table and walked away from them as Grumpy followed.

"Snow, wait! Where are you going?"

She picked up a satchel by the door and one of the dwarf's axes, swinging it over her shoulder as if she was simply off to work, but when she turned to face her companions, there was no joking in her face, only a dead seriousness that came from a decision he knew she'd made before she had to announce it.

"To kill the Queen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this scene might not fall until the category of "pivotal", but it was sort of like a free gimme. I mean, every time they are in a house there are plenty of mirrors and glass surfaces for Rumple to use and let's face it, this scene was just too hilarious not to use it. If there is anything this section needs, it's a bit of comic relief. Plus, it was a really good way to wrap up the previous episode and get Rumple to preserve the magic of Lake Nostos. Magic that returns that which one has lost...wonder where that will come back.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. This episode has a few more chapters to it unlike the last couple. Rumple is sort of active through this section, so...small favors! Peace and Happy Reading!


	184. Deals to Undo Deals

Precious Snow White…what a ruthless rebel she was shaping out to be.

Now, there was something he never thought he'd see in his time. But the second she was gone from the dwarves' house, she shed her pretty house dress and changed back into clothing more appropriate for a bandit, or a huntress. That night, as when she came across a royal guard, the precious Princess was, in fact, ruthless. She crushed the soldier's ankle with no hesitation, talked to him, threatened him by the look of his reaction. Back in the forest, he couldn't hear her words, but after her declaration at the house, he could only imagine that she was looking for a way to get to Regina.

And where was his pupil?

A quick glance into his mirror showed her in her palace, talking with her father as her servants packed them to move into the former Queen's Summer Palace.

There was no chance that she was going to sneak up on the Queen in her home, not without being murdered in the process. Although if Regina's ramblings from the time he'd lost his memories were true, she had survived once; still, he doubted she'd be fooled again.

He turned his attention back to the forest. There was a dwarf, Grumpy, coming up behind Snow White, who was nearly finished stripping the guard of his clothes. Fuck…she was going to try it.

He checked on Charming, still a day away, at least, from finding her now that she'd moved again.

The Seer was whispering that he was going to have to do something. The image he'd seen when he gave her the potion came back into his mind. Snow White, with Robin's bow, an arrow notched as Regina's carriage rolled by all before David dove in front of the arrow. True Love's Kiss would save the day.

He knew what he needed to do. He knew what had to be done, but the Seer urged him to stay where he was, whispered it furiously even as his own mind rebelled against it. He had to go, he had to intervene, he had to give her Robin's bow and send her on her way, the plan was clear and they were days away, they'd never make it to him if he didn't go to them! But before he could rise and gather his things together to go and meet them, he saw something remarkable. As Snow and the dwarf talked, he pulled a small vial of unmistakable potion from his pocket. Bright yellow, blindingly bright. He'd only ever known one potion that turned that color when it was done. A transportation potion. Rare, extremely tricky to make, and capable of taking the drinker to anywhere or anyone they desired to see. It was something he'd never even bothered with because he had no need of it, he could make himself appear anywhere he wanted and send others to whatever destination he dreamed up with only a thought. A dwarf on the other hand…

"Now where did you get that?" he wondered aloud as he saw the dwarf grab Snow White by her wrist and take a quick swig. Suddenly it didn't matter because he understood before they even arrived. The Seer was right, she was always right. They were coming to him.

He had to prepare, to wipe the images in his cauldron and crystal ball away and sit at his wheel idly while the potion worked its magic. It was powerful, but still not powerful enough to get them into this tower or even into his grounds on it's own. However, because it was the dwarf that had taken it, a being of magic all on their own, they'd ended up not outside the door to his property but somewhere down on the mountain. He rolled his eyes. Intrigued as he was to help them, the threat wasn't immediate, even the Seer was telling him it was safe to wait. So he spent the night watching David track Snow and watching Snow and Grumpy find their way through the woods and into his castle grounds. He felt their presence the second they arrived and on the grounds. He allowed them to enter, then used his magic to amplify his voice so it would echo around them, instructing them to come to his tower; it was the place he was currently storing Robin's bow. They wasted no time opening his door and clamoring up the steps, and he made no effort to help them or make anything more manageable for them.

"You rang?" he questioned, standing at his wheel, spinning straw into gold with a calm that usually undid those who were filled with anxiety. The dwarf, the Grumpy one, swallowed the bait easily enough. He led Snow further into his tower and marched straight over to him as if he had not a care in the world for how careless he was being with his guests.

"We need a cure!" the dwarf screamed at him.

"Well now, where have I heard that before?" he laughed. "What ails you?"

"Your magic!" he accused. "The potion you gave Snow–it changed her. She's not the same!"

"Well, of course, it changed her!" he pronounced as the Princess idly circled his tower, looking out the window, taking in his potions and curses…his poisons. He'd seen their image in the cauldron. He'd watched as she hadn't fought him when he took the transportation potion and brought her here. That either meant that she wanted the same thing the dwarf did or something different she hadn't yet divulged. Considering her lack of interest in this conversation, he was willing to bet it was the latter. In fact, he was willing to bet her interest here had far more to do with the Queen than it did her Prince Charming.

"It took away her love, left a big hole in her heart. There is no cure for what she's got. The person she was…" he muttered, hobbling around the wheel in front of him to stand by the dwarf and look over Snow White, still searching, still uninterested. "There's no way to bring her back. No potion can bring back True Love."

And then he did something he rarely did. He opened up his stores, his cabinets. In the cabinet was some of the best work he'd ever done in his time. He'd designed the long holders for the potions himself long ago when he first moved in without Baelfire. He'd designed it to be empty then with the intention of filling it up. It was a promise of all he was going to do in his long life until he was able to find Baelfire. Now, all but one of the potions he had room for were filled. True Love…but, perhaps soon…

"Love is the most powerful magic of all," he explained, looking at the empty space where a small label with a heart indicated his True Love Potion would one day sit. "The only magic I haven't been able to bottle. If you can bottle love, you can do anything. But you don't care about that, do you?" he piqued, turning around to look at Snow White, who was still, ever so predictably, looking bored as she pawed through his glass vials. It was easy to have her up here, but he did so hate it when people touched his things. "Now, what is it you really want?"

Snow set aside the small vial she had in her hand and straightened her shoulders. "I want your help to kill the Queen."

"Now we're talking, dearie."

"Snow, don't!" Grumpy warned over his shoulder.

But he was busy. He always made sure to store Robin's bow without its string, on the off chance he was ever lucky enough to break in here and take advantage of it again. Now he summoned the string into his hand and quickly put the bow back together again before the eyes of the Princess.

"Now, what is this?" she breathed, suddenly showing interest.

"This…is how you kill the Queen."

"How will that help me get into the castle?"

"No, no, no. That's impossible. You have to kill her when she's on the move," he summoned a map of Snow's Kingdom into his hand, one that had the Queen's route mapped out perfectly. It also now had a small suspicious "X" on it. The place that the Seer whispered about in his mind. That was where it would happen, where both Princess Snow White and Prince Charming needed to converge. "When she's on her way to the summer palace. Fire the arrow from this spot here, and you'll be hidden from sight. An arrow fired from this bow will get you exactly what you need." He grabbed an arrow made of gold that had once shot an apple perfectly off display as well. "It always finds its target!" he proclaimed, mocking Robin in his own private joke.

She stepped forward to take it, but Grumpy suddenly stood between them. "I can't stand by," he warned. "If you take that weapon, you do it alone."

Snow sneered and used a hand to shove him aside. "That was always my plan," she muttered, taking the bow from him. "So, what do I have to do in return?"

"Do? You don't have to do anything, dearie."

"Everything comes with a price with you. Last time you took a strand of my hair. What's in it for you this time?"

He smiled. It was true, all magic came with a price, but this magic was old, nothing new was being created, rather something old was being given away. And, if this worked, and the Seer's instructions always did, then what would be created would be a child that would get him back to his Baelfire. The scales were balanced.

"Let's just say…I'm invested in your future," he whispered in her ear. "Happy Hunting!" he shrieked, then sent Snow and Grumpy away with a wave of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Rumple is back in the game. He does have a bit of a heavier hand with this episode than others, especially where David is concerned, but trust me, there is still a lot of watching to be done. One little key piece of interest...if you've been with me long enough or you have read Moments Exchanged, then you know that in order to make that story more interesting I decided to place Rumple's castle fairly far away from the Regina's. Now, literally, the only episode that didn't work for, was this one. This is the only episode that both Snow and David get to him in a day. So, in order to preserve that story, as well as to keep distance in the Enchanted Forest, I solved the problem. For Grumpy and Snow we have the potion and Rumple sending them away. For David, it'll be more of the same!
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. This one too is pretty straight forward. Just like the next one, and the next one, and the next one...are you seeing a pattern with this section? Peace and Happy Reading!


	185. In the Right Direction

Step one was complete and he was ecstatic. He hadn't realized just how desperate he'd been to do something other than watch, until Snow was in his tower, but that little bit of control he'd regained had almost made him feel alive again. In a century and a half, he'd left so little up to fate that watching had been far more painful than he'd realized it could be. He hadn't even noticed that he'd been creating. As he'd watched them over these last few days and weeks, he'd spun enough gold to craft a large egg, roughly the size of his skull. He'd spent even more time adding gems to it as though it was some kind of child's craft. He'd enjoyed doing something other than crafting some kind of art just because he had nothing else to do, he'd enjoyed inserting himself into their stories; in more ways than he'd anticipated.

He'd fulfilled the requests of both the dwarf and the princess, though he was certain that one of them wouldn't see it that way at first. Snow White was fine. He'd sent her right to where she was supposed to be-on the road to the hiding spot that he'd told her about. He put a great deal of forest, a day of hiking, between her and the Queen…he'd had to; hiking meant time. Because the problem was that with David tracking her the way he was, suddenly disappearing and then reappearing elsewhere was bound to make him lose her completely. He needed him to catch up, not fall further behind. So while he'd sent Snow White off to kill her step-mother, he hadn't set Grumpy where he wanted to be, which was home. Instead, he'd dropped him onto another path, one that he was certain would put him in line with none other than Prince Charming's.

It was a risk, he knew it was, that was why as he planted himself yet again in front of his crystal ball to watch, he'd grabbed the golden egg and started fashioning an opening and a lock on it, just to keep his hands busy while he watched; watched and hoped. He needed their encounter to go just so. The dwarf still had a bit of his transportation potion on him, if Grumpy had been so desperate to save Snow that he'd used it, he was betting he might be able to have that same kind of desperation no matter how angry he obviously was with her. He was right.

Less than an hour later, he'd nearly concocted a lock and key for the egg, and David stumbled upon Grumpy. They'd had a…less than pleasant exchange, at least at first. He couldn't hear, but he was fine with it because both men were red in the face, there was lots of yelling and screaming before they finally calmed down and talked. And then Grumpy played right into his own hands.

He saw his own name on Grumpy's lips and then on David's, and after a few minutes of discussion and explanation on the dwarf's part, he saw Grumpy hand over the potion before he left. A moment later, he felt the False Prince on his grounds.

Time was of the essence. He wasn't about to meet the dear Prince Charming in his tower, not when there was nothing there to give him and no benefit to him. So when David slammed through his front doors calling out his name, he reappeared just inside his foyer, standing in the doorway separating David from his way out. There was a lovely cloak of red with a fur-lined collar over his back. He thought of the hair he'd taken from Snow when all this began, sitting up in his tower waiting for its match. Fur held onto hair quite well. Oh, that Seer was a tricky one. He'd been waiting for this moment longer than he could ever imagine.

"Show yourself!" the Prince demanded, looking around the foyer, knowingly expecting him to show.

"Still dressing like a prince, I see," he called, forcing the Prince to turn and face him. "Even though you ran away from the life I gave you. How's that for gratitude?"

"You gave me a prison sentence."

"Yeah…one that you've now skirted," he warned, keeping the table carefully between them as the Seer began whispering in his ear again. "Careful, dearie…King George is a vengeful man."

"I'm here about Snow," he stated without blinking an eye at his warning. "Rumor has it, she's after the Queen, and she came to you for help."

Rumor had it? Or a dwarf had told him when they'd met? The benefits abounded.

"Yes, indeed! Oh!" he cried as the Prince pulled his sword and pointed it at him. He laughed. It wasn't often someone startled him, not often in indeed, but the Prince had. A draw of the sword…he hadn't seen that coming. The Seer was too busy whispering about other things for him to notice that.

"What did you do to her?!"

"What did I do to her? You mean, what did you do to her," he growled. Guilt. He needed him to feel guilt! He needed him to want to fix this as much as possible! Guilt could be a great motivator. "You caused her pain. Without that pain, she would never have drank my potion to forget about you. That's what changed her!" And just to make a point, he puffed his chest out, forced the blade to touch against it, a dare for the shepherd before him who he was certain didn't have the spine to actually do what he'd threatened. He needed to remember who held all the cards in this game.

"Undo the potion," he insisted in a gentler tone. "All magic can be broken."

"Oh, yes. With twoo wuv."

"So, that's it then? True Love's Kiss will awaken her?"

"Most certainly. But it's going to be hard to kiss her when you don't know where she is," he said, reaching out to bat his sword away so he could walk away. Deal. He needed him to feel guilty and helpless, like he was her only hope. He needed him to make a deal so he could get what he wanted.

"Name your price."

He smiled. Even the Seer sounded happier. "How about…your cloak?" he suggested with a smile as he turned to point at him.

"My cloak? Why would you want my cloak?"

"It's drafty in here."

Skepticism was written all over his face, but with hardly any questioning, he removed the garment, turned, and placed it on the table behind him in surrender. Perfect.

"Where is she?"

"On her way to the Queen's Highway," he answered, magically producing a map he'd crafted himself, one that would take David from the place he'd dropped off dear Snow to the spot he'd told her to go. It was so much simpler when he was in control of things, when he could provide proper motivation. "This is the route she's taking, but you better be quick. Because, if she kills the Queen, she becomes as evil as the woman whose life she takes," he warned. It was partly a lie, partly the truth. The potion he'd given her shouldn't have that effect exactly, but after a hundred years, he knew people. He knew that all it took was for one act to set someone down a dark path.

"She could never become that evil," Charming sneered, but he knew better. Anyone could become that evil. It just took the right circumstances.

"Evil isn't born, dearie – it's made," he called as David turned to run from the room. "If Snow starts down that road, you'll never get her back!" As David turned the corner out of sight, he used his magic. Snow was two Kingdoms away, he'd never make it to her even on the fastest of horses, but with a small thought he was able to send David to the exact place he'd dropped Snow off earlier. Let no one ever say he never gave help. And as for the cloak, he looked down at it sitting there and smiled, gave a small laugh even. He had plans for this cloak, for what lay within it…so long as it was as he thought it would be…

He picked it up off the table and examined the fur around the collar, he gave it a smell, making sure it was one that smelled more like David than it did of James or George. He had a higher chance of success that way. He inhaled deeply. He smelled Prince Charming himself. Perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, following in the footsteps of the previous chapters, this one is also pretty straight forward. Well...other than the fact that in his spare time, while he's watching his soaps, Rumple is building something instead of scrolling through twitter. Wonder what that could be?
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on these chapters. Good to know you are still out there reading! Peace and Happy Reading!


	186. Of True Love

After giving careful consideration about whether or not he wanted to get Pirithous involved and send him out to watch the couple, he ultimately decided, yet again, not to. He returned to his tower to do what he felt like he'd been doing for the last week…watch. He might not be able to hear, but he could watch. He lay the cloak he'd collected from David out on one of his tables, but, as much as he wanted to examine it right then and there, he ignored it. Instead, he continued to fiddle idly with his egg project, keeping his hands busy with perfecting it, and his eyes and mind stayed focused on the players in the story unfurling before him.

David, far better at tracking than his brother James ever would have been, was able to easily locate Snow White. Their first encounter wasn't pretty. He'd give the kid credit, when he went for something, he went for it, completely, no resistance. Unfortunately, he didn't exactly have the tact to see that was probably not the best thing to do at certain times. He watched as David walked right up to Snow, exchanged in only a few brief words with her before he brought his mouth down on hers and that was that. He kissed her. Contact that was unexpected and very obviously, on Snow White's part, unwanted. David pulled away and looked her over hopefully, thinking that he'd just broken the spell, only for her to give him a good sound punch that left him unconscious and helpless.

In his village, as a boy growing up, he could occasionally remember the women rolling their eyes and whispering the word "men" under their breath as a simple explanation when a man did something stupid. He understood that now. It was his own first response. If he'd tried that with Milah or Cora he probably would have been smacked too, if he'd tried it with Belle…

He shook his head and tried to swallow his grief back down. He tinkered with his egg creation and focused a bit too heavily on the rope that Snow used to tie the would-be Prince up with just to distract himself from such thoughts. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if he'd ever kissed Belle like that. He didn't want to dare to think she'd still be here or that somehow things would have turned out differently. He didn't want to think about her at all because all it made him do was want to cry. Or worse, turn the dagger over to Regina and give up.

So he focused on them. He focused on how Snow tied David to the tree, he focused on how she prepared herself and her bow and arrow, he focused on how she realized that she wasn't in the exact right place just yet, counting down the minutes until she finally saw David move. It was evening and she was packing her stuff as if she was giving up on him waking when he roused.

He'd barely gotten a word out before he realized he was tied to a tree. That was a development the False Prince wasn't pleased with, but she was. He'd hoped that she'd take him with her as a prisoner, and that would give them time. The reason that David's kiss hadn't worked was obvious to him, she didn't love him. True Love was mutual, deep, enduring…it was layered. Thanks to his forgetful potion, she had none of those feelings for him. However, somewhere, deep down inside of her, a spark of their love would remain. If they spent time together, if he talked to her, he might be able to stir it up, kindle it once more, and then…then a kiss would work to reverse the potion. But to his dismay, she didn't do that. She left him behind. She left him tied to a tree and disappeared into the forest to the place that Regina would pass when the sun rose.

That was when he began to panic. He couldn't let her kill the Evil Queen. He may have given her all that she needed in order to do just that, but that was only because he didn't believe in making deals that weren't genuine. And he might not be Regina's fan, especially not after what had happened with Belle, but he needed Regina too much to let Snow do such a thing. He'd been counting on David to stop her, the vision he had told him that David would stop her, but how the hell was he supposed to do that when he was tied to a fucking tree in the middle of the woods?!

He wanted to go, he wanted to take off and help him, help get things back on track. But still, the Seer talked, whispering away in his head as she had been doing lately. _Be still. Stay put. All will be as it should._ His relationship with the Seer was a complicated one in the sense that he hated it just as much as he needed it, that was to say, he trusted her, but sometimes he wished she'd be a little more forthcoming about the details of the future. Still, she said stay, so he stayed and watched. Just like he had been doing.

He was nervous, his leg bouncing around like an anxious toddler, his eye on Snow in the cauldron and David in the crystal when hours later, suddenly David began to twitch about as if something was wrong. And then…

He rose and switched the images, pulling David into his cauldron so that he could see something he wasn't in the smaller crystal. It looked as though he'd been talking to himself, but seeing it up close and bigger…well, this was the last place in the world he'd expected to see the Cricket. It was Jiminy. He'd seen him try to help the dwarves when he sat them down to confront Snow White but not to much effect. And now here he was again, talking to David; freeing him! After a small conversation, he saw him he saw the Cricket begin to gnaw on the ropes that Snow had tied to bind David to the tree. The rope weakened and David gave a tug that this time succeeded in his freedom. The moment he came loose, he'd gotten to his feet and run off in the direction that Snow had disappeared to.

Another winning prediction by the Seer. Followed, naturally, by another.

David ran off to confront Snow and found her just in the nick of time that morning. There she was, crouched behind a tree, Robin's bow in her hands, golden arrow notched, aiming for none other than the passing caravan. Regina's caravan. Regina was out on her horse. The guards flanking her as scared villagers bowed to her while they went along. Her carriage followed behind them for those moments when she wanted to hide from public view.

David stumbled upon the scene, took it in, and he held his breath the same way the False Prince did as he took in his options for all of two seconds before it was nearly too late. Snow loosed an arrow. David jumped. When he crashed to the ground, the arrow was embedded in his shoulder.

Snow ran over to him as the caravan passed. This time it was more than words that were exchanged. She was angry at first, but as David cringed in pain and spoke to her, Snow's expression began to soften, it went from disgust and hate to thankfulness; a tear rolled down her cheek. The spark was kindled, now, unlike before, was the right time, the pair kissed and this time, when she opened her eyes…oh he'd seen that look before. He'd felt that look before, just once, when he and Belle…

Before he could allow himself to be overcome with memories, just as Snow and David went back to kiss each other again, he jumped up and waved his hand to make the painful images disappear. Then he began his work.

He had a feeling he could have done this earlier, but he'd wanted to wait, wanted to wait until this moment. This magic he was about to do was theoretical and experimental. He had no idea if it would work on the first try or the second or if it would ever work at all! And while he had what he needed, he didn't have it in ample supply, which meant that if he stood any chance at making this work, he had to give the magic it's best shot.

He hadn't done this earlier because he wasn't willing to risk it when Snow wasn't herself, afraid that might carry over into her ingredient. And besides, True Love was so much more powerful than the grief of unrequited love. Now that the pair had kissed, now that Snow had her memories back and they both knew they loved each other, he was ready to begin.

Carefully, very carefully he scanned and scanned the cloak David had left him, going over and over the fur collar until night fell and he had to light candles to see. It took hours. He was trying to keep calm. This was going to find what he was looking for, even if it took him days he was going to-

He found it! Exactly what he was looking for. A simple strand of hair. He extracted it with a pair of tweezers and held it up under a magnifying glass. It was the same color as David's, roughly the right size. It smelled like soap but deeper than that was sweat, sun, and sheep. James would never have smelled of sheep.

He grabbed a vial, one of which he'd prepared earlier by putting a bit of the extra hair he had from Snow White into it. He dropped David's hair next to her own and then pushed magic into it. It was a simple spell, one that allowed like to find like and manifest then harvest the similarity then…

The strands came to life.

They glowed, curled around each other in a double helix, perfect, strong, there was so much Light Magic coming off of it that it nearly made him sick. He couldn't create that. Only harvest what was. He'd done it. He'd created a potion from True Love. Well…not precisely. It still needed to set. In each of the vials in his cabinet he had the items needed to create potions if he infused magic, but in order to make it a potion the magic had to dissolve the hairs, it had to form a liquid that he could use. That would take time. Not long, judging by the strength of the magic coming off of it, but it wasn't going to happen in the next few minutes.

His heart was racing as he added the vial to the cabinet to steep overnight. He laughed. Smiled and beamed as he watched them together. He'd done it. He'd made of potion of True Love. With any luck when he returned to it there would be liquid inside, hopefully enough to add a single drop to his curse, enough to weaken it so that the product of their True Love, specifically, would become the Savior. A child. A girl who will return to break the curse at twenty-eight. Now he just needed her name. He'd done all he could for the curse, now he had to worry about breaking it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a whole lot of excitement but still a really important moment here. I'm sorry I couldn't find anything for him to use to get sound in the Forest with Snow and David, this is just the way it goes with this section sometimes.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for continuing to read. If memory serves correctly this is the end of what I have for this episode and up next we begin 1x21/1x22. And yes, it's still a lot of watching, but there is also a really important exchange that has to happen and a sword fight! So, something to look forward to! Peace and Happy Reading!


	187. Love as Weakness

Six times. Since he'd become the Dark One, he'd slept through the night only six times. Last night had been number seven. Snow White and Prince Charming together , the True Love potion steeping for the night, he'd gone back to his bedroom with a proud smile on his face, sat down in his chair next to the fireplace and let the images he had of Belle play across his mind just because he could. He let the guilt of her life wash over him with the knowledge that there was nothing else he should be doing for it was all done. She was the last thought he'd had when he drifted off, and her smile was what greeted him when he woke the next morning feeling rested and assured. He took a few moments to mourn her all over again, to swallow down tears and sobs. And then he pictured Baelfire. He'd taken a night off, but that was all he could afford. There was still work to do.

The potion was perfect. The helix of the hairs were dissolving into purple liquid that shimmered with gold and silver in the light. It was beautiful, gorgeous even, but he expected nothing less for a potion of True Love. And it was potent. Forget just getting a drop or two out of it, it was only half done with its dissolving and already the vial was half filled. When it was done it would fill the glass bubble at the bottom of the vial perfectly. With any luck, he'd be able to apply it to the Dark Curse by evening. He'd apply all it needed and the rest…the rest would need protected without a doubt. He had plans for it in another world if only because the Seer had plans for it in another world. But what those plans were was a problem to worry about once his work with that was finished. Besides, as he looked over at the egg he'd been tinkering with over the last few days of watching, he had an idea of sorts. He knew where he could put the potion, he knew how he could store it, make sure it arrived safely to it's new home with it's magic intact. It was another answer he didn't even have to work for. No wonder he'd slept so well. Things seemed perfect and fulfilled.

But like all things in life, it was temporary. That night, as he sat in his tower painstakingly extracting and binding a drop of True Love potion to the scroll of the curse, he was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of anxiety. There was something going on. The Seer knew it, the forest, the trees, even the very magic in the air seemed to sizzle with it. Something was happening. Something more than just adding potion of weakness into the strongest most well-made curse ever crafted. He wasn't the source of dis-ease. So what was?

He groaned, looking over at his ball and cauldron. He rubbed his forehead as he considered his other options and even thought once more about Pirithous before reminding himself firmly that his ship had sailed. As much as he didn't like it, as much as he felt like he'd lived in front of his cauldron for the last few weeks, he sat himself down in front of it again that night and began checking through his usual suspects. It turned out that finding the culprits was not difficult. It was exactly who he expected them to be and yet…not.

He would have thought that David and Snow would be together. That was, after all, how he left them yesterday, kissing in the woods. After finding one another again, it seemed like a reasonable expectation that they might be with one another at the dwarves' house or even in her old cottage for some privacy. He didn't think Snow White was the kind of girl to take someone to her bed on any night other than her wedding night and he couldn't see David trying to seduce her before that night, they were both traditionalists in that sense, but he could easily see both of them settling in somewhere familiar for the night while they figured out what to do next.

But when he asked to see them in his mirror together his magic reacted strangely, in a way that he'd never seen it react before. It shifted and warped before him, moving between two separate images, like it couldn't decide who it wanted to show or focus on. An image of Snow crying "no", an image of David crying. Snow reaching out, David staying still. The mirror was getting something, but it wasn't a clear picture, and after a few moments of staring at it, he felt like he knew what was going on. Wherever the couple was, they weren't together, even if they seemed to be talking to one another. How?

So he asked for one, in front of his mirror he asked for Snow and found her in a dank cell of some kind with bars and an open door behind her. She was looking right at him through the mirror, which could only mean one thing; suddenly all became clear. The mirror hadn't been able to focus, because they were both looking into a mirror. They were communicating much the way he and Regina used to. They were, without doubt, apart. And by the look of it, neither were happy about it. He used his crystal ball to watch Snow and found it was true. She was in a jail cell, looking into a mirror in which her Prince Charming was looking through, clearly upset.

He nearly threw the crystal ball across the room as he used his crystal to summon the image of David so he could watch them both. Damn these two…could they not even go a single day without being apart?! No child was ever going to be conceived if they couldn't stay in the room long enough to get married.

"Oh, no!" Snow cried, clearly just now discovering this for herself.

"The Queen took me to her palace," David explained sadly. The only words he needed to really use for both he and Snow White. The Queen…Regina had him. How she knew about Snow and David…he wasn't surprised. Rumors only ever spread, and there were enough leaks in George's castle that she would have heard about it all eventually. The question was, what the hell did she want with him and not Snow? Bait? Probably, that's what he would have done if he were a lesser being as Regina was. But what was her plan?

"But I'm rescuing you," Snow stated with irony in her voice. Trapped or not David let out a small chuckle before Snow laid her hand against the glass of the mirror. He glanced into his crystal ball and realized that she wasn't doing it alone, David was touching his side of the mirror as well.

"Snow…"

"Is this always going to be our life?" Snow asked. "Taking turns finding each other?"

Not if he had anything to say about it.

"We'll be together," David promised. "I know it. Have faith."

He watched in the mirror as suddenly, Snow's expression changed. One minute she'd been looking at him with sadness and longing and the next she took a small step back and squared her shoulders as shock crossed her face.

A familiar laugh came from the mirror, echoing off the caverns behind Snow. He knew that laugh. He glanced back into his crystal ball for confirmation. David had disappeared from the mirror…Regina now stood in his place. In a flash, he refocused the mirror, asking it to call on Regina's image and found her facing him as if she was talking to him and not to Snow. She was in her room at her palace, not the summer palace, her own palace. She'd gone back home and taken David on the way.

"I just had to stop you. I have no interest in cleaning tongue marks off my mirror."

"Let him go!" he heard Snow reason as the Queen glared straight ahead. "Your fight is with me."

"My thoughts exactly. Have you ever heard of a parley?" Regina asked. "We break off all this messy fighting and have a little talk. Just you and me. Come unarmed."

"Where do I meet you?" Snow asked without hesitation and in all seriousness. Stupid girl. She was going to play right into her step-mother's hands. Couldn't she see the trap Regina was laying out for her? Couldn't she see this would end badly?! Apparently not. Love was blind, and for the vast majority of people, it was stupid too. Were it Belle held by Regina he'd have figured out a way to save her before giving Regina what she needed. Snow, however, was too innocent to do anything other than listen to Regina's instructions.

"Where it all began…" Regina drawled before disappearing from view. The Evil Queen didn't elaborate, but there was no need to. He knew where it all began, and so did she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the next chapter is where it gets interesting because there is something we never saw in the series, a very important moment that has to happen now. When you read it, you'll probably think it's late, but as I'll explain there really is no choice. It has to be right this second. A&E tied me down on this one (which is probably why they never showed it themselves).
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your continued comments. Ready for a change up? Ready for a scene you haven't already seen? Then on to the next we go! Peace and Happy Reading!


	188. The Evil Queen's Plan

Where it all began. He knew what that meant. And so would Snow White, but he wasn't about to let Snow White manage this and he wasn't about to let Regina win in a way that wasn't with this Curse. If it were Belle he wouldn't sit back and let Regina lead him to both their deaths, he'd work around her. He'd let her be distracted by thinking her plan was working, and then he would find the loophole. Admittedly, magic gave him a leg up on doing what he wanted and needed to do when it came to situations like this, but it was clear in the way she walked determinedly out of the cell that Snow wasn't going to consider alternatives. She was going to go, she was going to do what the Queen requested, no questions asked. And it was stupid.

He couldn't abide by that. He had too much invested in her, in her love with David, in the child they hadn't created yet! He wasn't about to let her stupidity come between he and Baelfire. He wasn't about to lose this fucking race to Regina! So if Snow wasn't going to go and do what she had to, then he would.

Back at the table, he glanced down at the Curse and ran his hand over it. He'd bound nearly half of the True Love potion to it. With any luck, a single drop would do the trick, but he wasn't taking chances. What he'd put on would ensure it was enough. He didn't know what Regina's plan was, but he knew that he had to offer her a better one, something that she could use, something that would appeal to her. And he had to do it just right. If he gave this to her now, even if he laid out a beautiful plan for her, there was always a chance that she would still use it now. But that was just a risk he was going to have to take. The time had come. Revealing part of his plan, or at least convincing her that it's her plan, would buy him some time for the pair to conceive the Swan. At least that was what he hoped.

"What's your plan, dearie?" he piqued, making the Queen jump and turn in her seat to look at him. She'd been sitting in near darkness, her back to him, staring into the mirror on her vanity when he arrived; a Queen on her throne. Obviously, whatever she had planned for David and Snow, his appearance hadn't been a part of it.

"Plan?" she questioned with a smile as she got to her feet. "What plan?"

"Don't be coy with me, dearie," he smiled, slowly circling around her as she circled around him like two foes who might fight at any moment. If he wasn't calm he wouldn't put it past her. Their relationship had been strained from the day that he'd accused her of taking Belle. No longer were they teacher and student, but he couldn't exactly label her as friend or foe either. Especially not friend. "I know that right now, you have Prince James downstairs in your dungeon, and I know you intend to have a face to face with your step-daughter…a trade perhaps."

Regina lifted one shoulder in a care-free shrug. "Perhaps…" she said with a seductive smile that she'd inherited from Cora. Funny. Before Belle a smile like that might have gotten a rise out of him. Now, it just seemed childish. But he smiled back at her any way, pretending that he was interested in what she had to say, though seeing as how what she was going to say might actually affect his reunion with his son, he supposed he wasn't really pretending.

"You've intrigued me. The Prince is King George's son; why involve yourself with his problems and risk angering him? Is it just to get back at the girl?"

"Ha!" she cried with amusement in her voice. "He's no Prince. He's a commoner, a pretender to the throne. King George was about to kill him before I orchestrated the deal to get him. The King handed him over himself. I'm surprised you don't know."

So…she knew that too, did she? Also not surprising. All it took was one person who had known that David wasn't James to tell a spouse and then that spouse to tell a child and that child to tell their classmates, and they to tell their parents, and before he'd know it, the news would be all over the Kingdom. The Evil Queen could have easily bought it for the right price, though he suspected her friend in the mirror had more to do with how she'd retrived the information. Still, how she had the information or even the fact that she possessed it wasn't what was important. And she still hadn't answered his question.

"Why do you need him?"

Her smile grew. "I have a plan. Something divine, one of waiting and trading, a little something I got from you, Rumple…"

She strode over to her vanity and opened a drawer. From within it she pulled out a leather satchel with a drawstring, it looked like the item she'd been attempting to have the children steal from the Blind Witch. He'd assumed it was innocent insanity, but the second she opened that string he could feel the darkness rolling off of what was inside.

An apple. It was an apple. Clean and crisp it looked as if it had just been plucked from it's tree yesterday. And yet he could feel that while it looked like an apple, it wasn't. Or at least it wasn't just an apple. No apple he'd ever encountered had magic like that. But he did know of one kind that would, one that a previous Dark One had encountered that reminded him exactly of this. Dammit.

"This is a poisonous apple…" Regina explained, holding it up in the moonlight for him to see. If she expected him to admire it as she was, then she was going to be sorely mistaken. "It took me ages to hunt it down, but I finally had some kids steal one off a Blind Witch while Snow was with her dwarf friends."

"Fruit of a Poisonous Tree," he confirmed in a dull tone, letting her know that there was not a single thing she was saying that shocked or surprised him. Nothing was new to him. "A vicious fruit often in the form of an apple, capable of absorbing any curse, but at cost. It can only be taken by the victim willingly."

"And I plan to make Snow White eat it…willingly," she snapped at him. In one swift move, she shoved the apple back into its bag and vanished it elsewhere. "I plan to infuse it with a Sleeping Curse so powerful the world will think she's died. Now that Snow knows I've got her…love…she'll race to play my game, anything to let her dear Prince Charming live. I'll make a deal with her. One bite, and I'll set him free. But one bite will be all it takes. The Kingdom will mourn the loss of their Precious Princess, her Prince will lose his love and never know she was still alive, and she will spend the rest of her days trapped in endless death."

She was smiling at him, a look of a child looking to be congratulated by a parent for doing something special. It was probably somewhat well earned. She'd thought it through, had a slightly decent plan. But it was flawed, in more ways than one. And he had no intention of letting her think he was proud of her.

"Sleeping Curse is a powerful spell, not one I've ever given you," he pointed out instead. "Where do you intend to get such a thing?"

"I know a girl…or should I say, dragon. I was just about to go and see her when you called. One more small conversation and a night of brewing is all it'll take."

Maleficent. Sometimes he forgot about the connection she shared with that girl. She had one of the best Sleeping Potions in all the land, strong enough to hold Aurora in its throes. But that plan had been well thought out. Maleficent had sent the Princess's True Love away, shifted him into a form that would not be able to get anywhere near Aurora, let alone kiss her even if he did. It wasn't just that he wanted Regina's plan to fail, it was that it was bound to unless Regina thought just as much about the aftermath as she did the lead-up. That was what was required of all curses. That was why he didn't want her to cast the one sitting in his pocket just now, he didn't have anything in place to break it yet. But if Regina was set on this happening, he had to take a chance.

"Oh…why the long face?" Regina smirked lounging on her couch. "I thought you'd be proud? I've played your game. I've waited patiently for this moment, pulled strings from behind the scenes, made deals you can't even imagine, and now it's all coming to pass. Yet you look as if you've just swallowed a deadly toadstool. What's the matter Rumple? Afraid someone might surpass you?"

Oh he couldn't wait to wipe that smug look off her face when she finally encountered the Swan.

"Never. I'm disappointed in you, dearie. What you've done isn't impressive…it's childish," he snapped. "It's weak, simplistic. It's beneath me and beneath a powerful witch like yourself."

With every insult he hurled her smile had disappeared a little more, leaving behind the scared angry eyes of the young girl he'd once tutored and that was precisely what he wanted; to bring her down a few notches.

"I've worked hard to-"

"Enough!" he roared, silencing her arguments. "Enough. It's time for teacher to talk now, to save you and your reputation. I've created something for you, dearie, just like I've always promised. And this something happens to be an answer to your problem."

He pulled the scroll from his pocket and tossed it at her. She caught it, but her reaction was duplicated. She jumped when she caught it, and she jumped when she felt it. It had been years since she first met him while he'd had it in his pocket. She was stronger now, more capable of sensing the magic in it. Yes…even if the True Love potion was dampening it, she could still clearly feel the magic emanating off of it. That was the beauty of it. It was so strong and its weakness so subtle, she'd never even notice the adjustment he'd made to it.

"What is it?"

"That, dearie, is what I was always training you for. That is a Curse. A powerful Curse. One sure to make everyone, not just Snow White, feel the hate and pain you carry in your heart. It will make it so that everyone will be punished for what happened to dear Danial. Everyone."

Now that had her attention. "How's it work?"

"It will take us to a new land, somewhere horrible-a Land Without Magic."

She huffed "That doesn't sound so appealing, why would I want to-"

He held up a hand and silenced her. "I wasn't finished yet. It is a Curse that will take everyone here to a Land Without Magic, it will put us in a world where time is frozen, a world of your own creation, one that will be as you want it. Might I recommend one where True Love never wins, where for Lovers will be separated, children will be taken from parents, all will be ripped away from this world that they loved, and best of all…they'll have no memory of it. For those of your choosing, you will create the life they have. So long as the Curse goes unbroken, they shall wander around stuck in one moment of time, missing something, unsatisfied with their life, and never knowing exactly what it is that they are missing…now who does that remind me of?"

Her eyes went wide as she stared down at the scroll in her eyes and swallowed hard. "Me," she whispered in a small, childlike voice. But then she looked up, fire and fear and suspicion all mingled there together in her eyes as she stared at him. "But all Curses can be broken. You always said-"

"That's right! And this one...all it needs is a Savior to break it. You remember how rare those are."

"Rare, but possible. I suppose I could always kill the Savior if one should ever present itself."

"Wouldn't recommend it. This is the most Powerful Curse in all our lands, and with it comes heavy costs. Among them a little caveat written into it...if the Savoir were to be slain, your Curse would break...instantly," he explained snapping his fingers. He wasn't sure why his that little detail existed in the Curse, but seeing as how Regina's mind had gone right to it, he was suddenly happy it was there.

"Fine. I can't kill them...I'll find a way around it if he arrives!"

"'If' indeed, dearie. 'If' indeed," he confirmed with a smile on his face that he hoped looked reassuring even if he found it to be funny. It wasn't a matter of "if", only "when". Not that Regina needed to know that.

"But...what do you get out of it?" Regina asked suddenly, glancing over at him with the Curse curled around her fist. "You never do anything without a reason. And you wouldn't condemn yourself to a fate like this without a good reason, and yet if I believe what you've said, then that is precisely what you trained me for."

"What I get out of it will be my business," he growled. Naturally, she couldn't be grateful, she couldn't just do was she was told and not ask questions. He had to hand this plan to her on a platter that made what she'd wanted to do with that apple look like moldy bread and cheese.

"Let the boy go," he instructed. "Be patient a little while longer. Let them have their moment. Let them marry and produce a child and let them think the danger has passed, and the world is theirs for the taking. Then cast this Curse and strip it all away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally the only place I could put this which sucks because chronologically it makes lots of sense but story-wise it doesn't. But, I really didn't have much of a choice. What do we know about the moment that Rumple gives the Curse to Regina, about where it falls on the timeline? Well, we never saw the moment in question, but season one gives us a few hints. We know from the first few episodes that Regina has the Curse before she puts Snow to sleep because she trades the Curse to Maleficent for the Sleeping Curse she uses on Snow. We know that once Maleficent gets it, then it stays safe with her until the Charmings wedding night. However, we also know from the last few episodes that Rumple admits to having the Curse after he made the True Love potion because he states that he adds a drop of potion to the parchment, that's what makes Emma the Savior. Therefore, chronologically, this chapter must be here. However, story-wise, while it fits, once you see it all come together you realize 1) that it cuts it pretty damn close and 2) Regina really is a shitty evil plan planner. (I suppose we could also learn that A&E weren't keeping as close a check on their own damn timeline as they were saying they were, but we'll talk a little bit more about that tomorrow!) Because in order for this to work it means that Regina has the apple, has the plan to use a Sleeping Curse with it, and she plans to use it on Snow the next day, but she hasn't gone to Maleficent to get the Curse that she needs yet. So...on the way to the Summer Palace Charming is caught, Regina goes to George and gets him, she takes him back to her palace where she has the apple ready, but still no Sleeping Curse, then tells Snow to meet her at her family home the next day knowing that in one night she has to go get the Sleeping Curse, brew the Sleeping Curse, and curse the apple and...yeah, it's possible and we might be able to explain some of it as Regina rushing to make the most of the opportunity she's been given. But she's cutting it pretty fucking close. Story-wise, it sucks. But chronologically this is where it has to go. And up next we will see why all this had to be so freaking rushed and I couldn't extend this time!
> 
> Thank you so much RolfB for your comments thus far. I hope this chapter for you comes as a nice surprise or at least something that breaks up the monotony of these "TV chapters". Despite its timing, I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It was this nice little active oasis for me in the midst of writing so much inactive watching. Plus, I really looked forward to this chapter because when I was outlining this fiction there was this nice little moment of "oh yeah, we never see Rumple give Regina the Curse, that's sort of important, I guess I get to write that. Yay!" So, I hope you'll like this, despite it's problems I hope that you'll think it's well done and appreciate it for what it is. Peace and Happy Reading!


	189. The Failings of the Evil Queen

Short of stealing Regina's heart and ordering her to turn over that apple of hers, he'd done what he could. He would have loved to have traded the Curse for the apple, but because of what he could get in return for her casting it, his son, there was nothing more he could do. So he left the apple with her. He'd done what he felt the Seer was telling him was right to do. And yet his stomach twisted and turned as he watched Regina in his crystal ball. He knew; these next few hours were going to be crucial, for her, for the future, for his son.

She paced a lot. In fact, for hours after he'd left she did nothing but pace. Hands on her hips, back and forth in her room, on the balcony, around her vanity. Sometimes she placed the scroll he'd given her on her vanity and would cast sideways glances at it, sometimes she'd hold it in her hand and stare down at it as she walked. She opened it once, read through it, but then let it roll back together and went back to pacing for another hour. Back and forth, pace, pace, pace. Until she finally took the scroll and the apple and sat them on her vanity, then sat down in the chair before them, and stared. Head in her fists, curled against her cheeks, she looked back and forth between them, as if weighing her options. She was driving him crazy. He couldn't tear himself away from watching her. But he didn't even know what he was waiting and watching for her to do? Did he want her to destroy the apple? To walk away?

Maybe that was it. Until he saw her walk away, free David, and hide the Curse away, protecting it as he did…he wouldn't be satisfied that this was over. And so, as long as Regina stayed awake, contemplating the decision that he'd given her, he wouldn't rest either. He had to go on assuming the future he saw in his mind was coming, just like always. His fingers worked on the egg in his hand, he used wood to fashion innards, to whittle away at it until he had a spot just big enough for the vial that held the true love potion. Then he placed down feathers over the wood, and covered it with velvet. The metal would protect the vial from the conditions he was going to place it in, the innards would protect the vial from slipping and sliding within the egg and possibly cracking the magic. A few spells and it would hold up. A few spells and with any luck, and the right hiding place, it would be preserved for the next world so he could-

Regina moved.

Her sudden motion nearly had him dropping his creation and watching her as she grabbed the Curse in one hand and rose from her vanity. He watched. He couldn't have looked away if he wanted to. What was she going to do? Where was she going to go?

To her closet. To fetch a cloak. And then she was gone.

Before he could even come up with a theory or explanation, she vanished in a cloud of magic. She took the Curse with her. He had an idea, or maybe it was a hint from the Seer, something he feared about where she might have gone and where she would have been taking it. He didn't want to be true. If he'd been an optimist, he might have used his mirror and ball to look through the possibilities, to look into David's cell, the mausoleum, her silly little room of hearts, even the stables of her old estate "where it all began". But he didn't have time to test himself or trust Regina. So he cast a spell on his mirror and said simply "find her". What he found was exactly what he didn't want to see.

Regina, in Maleficent's castle.

"No…" he whispered, leaning in closer to watch their interaction. He had no choice. There were mirrors in her castle, but the ones that weren't covered were naturally kept enchanted to keep spells like his out. He had to be satisfied with only watching, even if he knew he'd never be satisfied. Their conversation was rushed and deft, but not without manners. The dragon invited her in for tea it seemed, and Regina appeared to accept. They sat in front of her fireplace chatting for a few minutes before Regina finally put her teacup in a saucer and sat forward toward her companion and he could tell just by her body language that the real conversation had begun. He watched them, tried to read their lips. He wasn't perfect at it, but he knew how to recognize a few words. He was best at seeing names, but he didn't seen any mentioned. What was she doing? She'd mentioned going to the dragon for a Sleeping Curse, but why would she have taken his curse with her. What was she thinking?

After a moment more of conversation, he watched as Maleficent went to a table across the room where books seemed piled high in disorganized columns. Disorganized to him, but not to her apparently. She wasted no time going to a certain stack, running her fingers along the spines, and stopping at one in particular. She lifted the books that had been on top of it up and off, then opened the book, paged through, and finally ripped one of the pages out.

He was willing to bet there was a Sleeping Curse on it. Why did he feel nauseous suddenly? Why did he feel like he was going to be sick?

Regina sashayed over to the Dragon Queen and reached out to take the paper that she offered. But at the last second the Dragon pulled the paper away. He knew that technique. He used it himself when he wanted to make a deal.

"Oh no," he breathed as she spoke to Regina. "No."

Regina listened as she spoke, carefully before looking between Maleficent and the paper she held just out of reach. She was tempted.

"No…"

After a few beats, he watched as Regina returned to the cloak that she'd left on the chair she'd been sitting at. She pulled something small from one of the pockets.

"No, no, no…"

She held out what was in her hand for Maleficent. It was the Dark Curse.

"Fuck!" he cried. Turning around and overturning a table. He hardly heard the crash because he'd already looked back at the mirror to spy the women. Maleficent knew what it was. He could tell from the look in her eyes. She was a sorceress heads and tails above Regina. What Regina had failed to sense so long ago it was clear Maleficent had not a problem feeling. She could feel it was powerful Dark Magic. Whether or not she knew what exactly she was being offered he couldn't tell and wouldn't be able to unless he spoke with her or figured out a way to read her mind.

His fingers were curled into fists, his nails digging into the skin on the palm of his hand as he watched the women. Regina spoke. Then Maleficent spoke again, something short and brief with her eyebrows raised, a yes or no question then. Regina took a step closer and smiled. She uttered a single word that looked to be like "positive". And then Maleficent responded with a word he knew all too well.

"Deal."

Maleficent handed the paper over to Regina.

Regina gave her the Dark Curse.

He screamed. He roared in anger and frustration. He did more than turn over a few chairs, he used his magic to blast the mirror he'd been using off its balance so that it fell back and shattered onto the floor.

For years he'd protected it! For years he'd kept it safe from the fairies and Bald Mountain, for a century he'd searched for it. And Regina had traded it for a Sleeping Curse? A simple Sleeping Curse?! As if it compared to the Dark Curse! He'd practically handed her the revenge she wanted on a silver platter, and this was what she did with it. Foolish, ignorant girl!

His chest expanded so impossibly that he had to loosen the buttons on his vest. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

_"The first born of Queen Core will cast the curse…"_

He knew that. He knew that because there wasn't a single day in his life that he hadn't repeated those words to himself! He'd done what he could. He'd gotten her the Curse, he'd placed it into her hands…and now Maleficent had it. She could do anything with it; cast it, destroy it with her dragon fire, or even turn it back over to the fairies. This was bad.

He had to fix this. How was he going to fix this?!

He strode over to his cauldron and summoned up the image of Maleficent, the room that he'd just seen the women in. Regina was gone, probably already back at her castle working on the Sleeping Curse. But Maleficent…

She stood by her fireplace all alone, a small unicorn standing beside her. She scratched it behind its ears and then watched as she pulled apart the scroll. Her eyes darted back and forth as she read. And read. And read. Her eyes grew bigger, her mouth parted so that her jaw dropped in something like horror. She flipped the scroll over as if expecting to read more on the back, but there was nothing and she flipped it back to the words and read again. For a moment, just one he thought that she was going to throw it into the fire. He pulled on his magic, preparing to go to her castle and fetch it back…but he couldn't.

He tried. He tried to transport himself inside that room, the same rooms that he'd transported himself into last time…but he couldn't. There was something stopping him. Magic. She'd blocked him. She'd locked him out of her property just as he'd locked her out of his. He couldn't get there. He couldn't get to the Curse. If she tossed it in the fire, that was it…that was the end.

His mouth was dry as he stared into the cauldron, letting his hands burn on the hot metal as he gripped the sides. He watched as Maleficent stared at it for a long while, put her hand to her mouth, looked around, and he prayed that she wouldn't call on the fairies. She'd ratted him out to the Blue Fairy once before. If the fairies got their hands on that Curse once more, he was certain he'd never see it again.

But then she reached out and grabbed something from beside her fireplace. It was her staff. She reached up, grabbed the little glass ball at the top, closed her eyes, and pressed the scroll to it…then watched as it melted into the glass ball. When she opened her eyes, the scroll was out of her hand and instead was encased within the glass bauble; entombed. And from there she walked away with her staff as if it was nothing and the Seer delivered to him a very special, very important message. The Curse was safe.

He could breathe again. Unlikely as it seemed, the Curse was safe with Maleficent. Leave it to a villain, a true villain, to feel the temptation of a curse like that, and to be unable to give it up. Fine. Let her keep it with her, safe, for now. At least he knew where it would be when the time is right. And, no matter the difficulties getting it presented, at least it would be less of a struggle than getting it back from the fairies or Bald Mountain. Exceptionally-

_Regina was back in Maleficent's castle, confronting the Dragon, battling with her. She fought her until she couldn't win and then targeted the little unicorn, sending fire in its direction. "No!" the Dragon cried, rushing to the aid of the animal. She left her staff unattended, and Regina grabbed it. "You're my only friend." With magic and pure strength, she broke the glass at the end of the staff, and took the Curse for herself._

For herself. Regina took it back. Yes…that would be exceptionally easier than fetching it from Bald Mountain. Regina would only need a push to go back and get it. The right push. But not today. No, today, tonight she was...

With his magic he righted the mirror he'd tipped over, he healed the glass and opened up the spell again. There she was. In her workroom, the apple at her side, as she prepared to make the Sleeping Curse.

The right push.

Maybe the Sleeping Curse was exactly what she needed. Not because she would "win" as she so carelessly believed. But because she would lose. She'd confessed to him herself that she'd been working on this plan for a long time, been scheming and dealing, pulling strings like he did in order to make it work. It was a plan she'd invested in. A plan she believed she'd be successful at. Perhaps that was why he needed to let her follow through with it, let her think she won, get a taste of victory before it all came crashing down. Maybe she needed to put all she had into this and see it fail so that she'd be desperate enough to use his ideas.

And as for her idea, well, it wasn't terrible but it was flawed. Sleeping Curses were hard to break but not nearly as hard as the Dark Curse, not when he knew right where the cure to this one was, and it was within his reach while Regina remained so confident it wouldn't happen.

Could he do it?

Could he let Regina do this and then lead David on to break the Curse? He watched as Regina chanted while dipping the apple into the first layer of the cursed potion. The mixture clung to it as that it formed the picture of a deathly skull.

It would appear he had no choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this all happens pretty quickly right, seems really rushed and hurried. It seems unlikely that in one night Rumple gives Regina the Curse, she trades it away, and makes the Sleeping Curse. Originally, when I had this bit outlined, before I did the rewatch, I had a few days of time before Regina and Snow's meeting at her old Estate just to allow this exchange as well as the one that Regina makes with Maleficent a little time to breathe and make it seem more plausible. However, for whatever stupid reason, in one of these episodes, A&E chose to write a time constraint into the script. Time constraints are words and phrases like "tomorrow", "Yesterday", "the day after", "the day before", anything that defines when something has to happen in relation to something else. For the most part, Enchanted Forest flashbacks don't include these (Thank God). But naturally, for whatever reason there was, in one of these episodes, there was mention of one. I'm sorry, I don't remember where it was or who said it at this point (and I'm not going back to look through the scripts to find it), but somewhere someone uses one of these words which very clearly states that all this has to happen in one night. I know it because when I began writing this bit, I very clearly thought "This is no biggie I'll just add a couple of days" but by the time it was over I was cursing the showrunners for obviously not considering the time their story was working with. So, yes, all this happens in one night, there is nothing I can do about that.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I'm happy to hear that you liked that original bit. This bit is of course semi-original, since we never really see Regina hand the Curse over to Maleficent either, but I sort of hurt myself in this one, continuity wise. Way back when Rumple got the Queens of Darkness together for their meeting it's mentioned that Rumple can't hear from Maleficent's Mirrors that she has cast the spell on them that keeps unwanted ears out. It was necessary for making that storyline work. But it sort of hurt this storyline because we can't hear into their trade. I don't regret that though. If given the choice between that and this, I'd keep everything the way it is. I know that sort of makes this scene a filler chapter, but it'll work for our purposes. Peace and Happy Reading!


	190. Carefully Controlled Anger

He spent the night watching Regina as she prepared the Sleeping Potion, dipping the apple over and over into the Sleeping Curse, applying layer after layer for the apple to absorb until it was finally a deep black color. With a wave of her hand, she turned it red again and he knew, with certainty, that it was done. But so was he.

He had a plan; a preliminary plan, but a plan nonetheless. A plan that would, with any luck, get David free, get Regina to see her own failings, get the potion of True Love to a safe place, and allow David to break the curse about to be placed on Snow White. The first step was going to be the trickiest, he acknowledged that, but he was certain he could do it. He just had to watch the right person, the only one in the Queen's castle that wasn't truly loyal to her...and of course, wait for the right time.

When afternoon came, he found the Queen back at her old estate, the one she'd lived at with her Mother and Father before she married the King and was named Queen and Step-mother. She walked the house, the grounds, and finally came to rest in the stables, looking around in near tears when, naturally, Snow came. With David in her clutches, Snow had very little choice in the matter. The minute she arrived, Regina turned and marched out of the stables, bidding the girl to follow her. They walked along the grounds and out onto a hill with a grave. It was a grave he recognized. She'd placed it there after "the experiment" had failed, and she'd placed Danial in the ground. Snow had never seen it, not until now.

Words were exchanged. It was clear that sometimes they spoke as normal individuals, calmly, cordially, even respectfully at times. But then the conversation grew heated and, if the vein in Regina's forehead was any indication, loud. And then the moment came. Regina pulled the apple she'd worked on the previous night from its satchel. After a brief explanation, the Princess finally took the apple, willingly, and with tears in her eyes, bit into it.

The effect was almost immediate. There was something wrong, small movements that looked like gagging, like her body was trying to reject it, but her mouth wouldn't open, or perhaps she was trying to hold onto it. And then Snow collapsed without grace. Her knees fell out beneath her and she dropped hard to the ground. Her breathing slowed, he knew that her heartrate would as well. Her fingers uncurled. Regina beamed, staring at her with pleasure.

He felt anger, even despite the fact that he knew he had to let this happen for his plan. Instead of giving into his anger and going after Regina, he followed the apple. Angry as he was, Regina was going to be dealt with later, but that apple had been infused with something powerful and wasn't even half used. He hated what she'd done, but he wasn't foolish enough to let that apple get away! He wasn't about to let magic like that lay out in the middle of nowhere. After rolling out of her fingers, it continued down the hill. He watched for it to stop, watched it roll end over end until-

His mouth dropped open as a small portal opened up, just big enough for the fruit, and pulled it through. It was gone. He turned away from the scene on the hill, commanding his cauldron to find it. No image came to him. He picked up his crystal ball and commanded the same thing but…nothing! For the first time since he'd had the ball there was nothing but darkness to meet him. The crystal couldn't find it, the cauldron couldn't find it. That did not bode well. Something like that meant that the apple was no longer in either this time or this space. Seeing as how time travel was impossible, he deduced someone from another world had pulled it from this world into theirs.

Fine. He was angry, things seemed far from good or fine. But the apple wasn't the goal, it wasn't the conception of the Swan, for now the goal wasn't even Bealfire. It was True Love's Kiss.

Step one…free David.

He returned his watchful eye back to Regina just in time to see her disappear, he watched Snow's body in his crystal ball all the while he used the mirrors in Regina's palace to root out the Hunter. Regina was bound to feel victory. She was bound to feel powerful and strong and bound to want to celebrate that. With no one else to celebrate with, he had the very distinct feeling that she would summon her in-house sex-slave for her own amusement. But he had no intention of letting something like that happen. Not on this night.

The dwarves were the ones to find Snow White. Granny and Red joined them eventually and it was the wolf girl who finally thought to take a dagger from her grandmother, place it beneath her friend's nose, and find no breath within her. They mourned and cried together, hugging and embracing as they lifted the girl into their arms to hug her. But it was useless. When they finally began to gather her body, he stopped to look in on Regina, alone in her tower.

Using her mirror he observed her sitting at her vanity draped across her chair with not a care in the world., her eyes fixed on him but really just looking past him. She was staring into her own mirror, watching something. Judging by the look of satisfaction on her face he could guess easily enough what that might have been.

"It would appear sacrifice is overrated. Speaking of…"

She waved her hand at him, at the mirror in front of her, and the image he had of her waved a bit, indicating magic had been used. He glanced back into his ball and found the image of David in his cell, clanging at the bars and crying out. "Snow! What have you done to her? What have you done? Where is she?! Where is she?!"

It sickened him. Almost enough to go now himself and free him. But he was waiting for the opportune moment. The moment when Regina rose from her chair, went to her chamber of hearts and pulled on forth with glee.

"Come to my chambers tonight, huntsman. We're going to celebrate."

That was what he'd been waiting for. In his crystal ball, he watched the huntsman's eyes widen, he watched as he turned green and wrinkled his nose as if he was going to be sick and then…he rose from his bed in the servant's quarters and obeyed her commands. Now, enough was enough.

He summoned the anger he'd felt last night, forgot the fact that he had a plan, that he was now committed to the plan. He recalled all the years he'd searched for the Curse, all the pain and anguish it had taken to get it in the first place! And then he was ready.

"Foolish girl…foolish stubborn girl," he whispered in a menacing tone from the shadows of her room.

Regina turned to look at him. "You'll keep your voice down in my palace!"

"Quiet!" he snapped. He made sure there was poison in his voice, demanded her attention, but didn't raise his voice. He wanted his anger to be carefully controlled and tamped down; like a parent. "I do the talking now."

For a moment, she complied. He saw her back straighten and fear overshadowed her eyes before she shook her head and turned her back on him. "Go home, Rumple. This is my palace, I am Queen here, and I won't be talked down to by you as if you were-"

"Cora? Well, maybe your mother had her reasons! Parents do when their children act like spoiled, selfish brats."

"Cora is dead!" she screamed. 

He had opened his mouth but that proclamation stopped his heart and gave him pause. He'd seen this discussion going many different ways, but not that way. Cora? Dead? 

As if sensing his confusion Regina shrugged. "Happened a long time ago; saw the body myself. She was a liability I couldn't afford to keep around so I had her killed. So you can stop pretending that she's some sort of paragon of magic and deception because she has fallen to me! To my magic! To my plans!"

No...no she was lying. Why, exactly, he couldn't tell, maybe to try and prove herself to him? He didn't know why she was lying, but he knew that she was. The way her heart raced, the way she shook with anger, the way she shifted her eyes...lies. All of it. She may long for her mother's death as much as he did, might have even tried to bring it about as she said, but she hadn't succeeded. Cora would never have allowed it. 

"Cora is twice the witch you are." 

"'Was', and you will watch your tongue." 

Watch his tongue? She was the lying, foolish little girl and thought she could tell him to watch his tongue. Not in a million years. Dead or alive Regina would always be half the woman her mother is or was so long as she continued to behave as she was. Oh, he may have come here with one reason, on purpose, in mind, but it appeared he had other lessons to teach. 

"Your mother would never-"

"Stop it!"

"-ever have settled for such a foolish, second rate plan!"

"I told you, watch your tongue."

"And I told you it was childish," he shouted. "It is bound to fail! And now it's cost you your greatest asset! You gave away gold coins for a copper pot!"

"You don't know anything! I've won!" she shouted at him. "My plan worked! The girl slumbers! The dwarves have taken her body and are fashioning a coffin for her pretty little figure to lie in for all an eternity."

"Until he breaks the curse!"

Suddenly her mouth clamped closed with an annoying clap. Oh, and there was the rub in this plan of hers, what he'd seen coming ever since she told him her plan. She'd been so focused on cursing her step-daughter she hadn't considered how the curse might be broken.

"Oh, have we forgotten so soon?" he taunted. "All curses can be broken, Regina!"

"Oh please!" she cried after a minute. "He doesn't know that she's cursed. It's a powerful potion, she looks dead, sounds dead, feels dead, and give it a few days, but she'll eventually smell dead. Even if he weren't locked up in my dungeon, what kind of man kisses a dead woman?"

"You doubt, Regina. You doubt the possible all because of logic and reason and not emotion. You forget how you kissed your own beloved after he perished, trying to bring him back, you don't think he'll try just as hard?! You're a stupid little girl! One day, you'll learn your lesson just as I've learned mine. I was wrong to give you something so strong. I shouldn't have put so much faith in such a weak witch!"

He turned, making it look like he wanted to leave but what he really wanted was to get a clear view of the hallway outside the Queen's door. Was that movement? Someone coming down the hall, to please his master? Right on cue.

"It'll never happen!" Regina shouted, her voice cracking and betraying her emotions. He'd made her nervous. Good. She'd made him nervous when she gave his curse to her friend. "I've won! Snow White lay asleep in a coffin, by the time they finally realize she's not dead it will be too late. I still have the Prince in my custody. I'll see to his execution in the morning."

And that was certainly movement. The hunter was behind the door, hiding away, listening to their conversation or at least the tail end of it. All he'd wanted him to hear was that last bit, the part about Charming's execution. He'd cared enough to spare Snow White, with any luck he'd care enough to also spare her Prince.

"You try that, Regina…" he muttered, looking at her over his shoulder. "You try, but when you are sick of sniffling about and ready to give revenge true consideration, we'll talk."

He took another step toward the hallway and saw the Huntsman speeding away from her room, perhaps going to make a plan, he hoped? His work here was done.

"I gave that curse of yours away!" Regina shouted before he could disappear. Brave girl. At least she owned her mistakes, even if he knew the point of her shouting that was to cut him deep. It did. He was hurt and angered by it and so, incredibly, tired of being here in this realm while Baelfire was in another, breaking curses, arranging meetings, knowing every damn thing just to stay one step ahead of stupidity. But he wouldn't show it. He was so close he was finally starting to taste it! He wasn't about to fold now.

"I know, Regina," he whispered without looking at her. "Someday, you will learn...I know everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confused? Head spinning a bit? Oh, I hope so. This chapter is supposed to make you feel those things. It's supposed to make you feel like you are jumping from one character, one story, to another. It's supposed to sort of get you twisted. One second Rumple is looking at Snow, then he's looking at David, then he's back to Snow, then to Regina, then the apple, back to Snow, find the Huntsman, make a plan...it's done for two reason. The first is to show exactly how much is going on right now. The second is to demonstrate how many plates Rumple is spinning right now, it's to show the control he's trying to maintain on everything even down to the last detail. Just like before Belle, he's trying to think two steps ahead of everyone. That's not to say that he's over Belle, he just finally has something to focus on for a moment and it's keeping him busy.
> 
> Thank you so much RolfB for your comments on the last chapter! I'm so happy to hear you thought it was okay. I'm hoping you'll like some of his scheming in this chapter. It's sort of setting up the dominoes before everything really falls into place. Peace and Happy Reading.


	191. When Plans Come Together

Regina kept her word, he'd give her that. She'd said she'd wait until morning to execute David and she had...in a way. It was certainly past midnight when she finally summoned her guards to bring the prisoner to her for execution so...technically it was morning. All he cared about was that it gave the Hunter enough time to get a few things together for David, to have a plan in place. He had been listening at the door when he and Regina fought, just like he'd hoped he would be. He knew because the Hunter was well prepared when the time came. David managed to incapacitate two of the goons that had been sent to fetch him and ran away, but as soon as he rounded the corner, the Huntsman was there dressed as a guard. His face was hidden, but he knew it had to be him simply because no one else in Regina's employ used a bow and arrow. He pulled back on his arrow when David was in his sights and David stupidly turned to run, as if an arrow could be avoided, when another guard came around the corner.

"Shoot him!" he cried.

The Huntsman took aim and let the arrow fly, he knew before it landed in the other guard that the arrow wasn't meant for David, but dear Prince Charming was innocently shocked and looked back at him.

"Who the hell are you?"

The Huntsman removed his helmet. "A friend," he answered, finding a set of keys. "I don't know you. But I know Snow White."

David's eyes widened as the Huntsman came forward. "Is she okay?" he demanded as he unlocked his shackles.

"The Queen was traveling to meet her. Her fate is in a precarious place. You must hurry. Follow me." Ah…so he hadn't heard all of their conversation then. He hadn't heard enough to know she wasn't dead or cursed. Or maybe he just didn't want to believe it? "I can get you out. I'll try and stall the Queen. The rest is up to you," he instructed quickly. He moved to grab something by the wall. It was a black bag and David's sword. "Your weapon and some provisions. Good luck."

"You're not coming with me?" David asked, looking confused. He couldn't blame him. The Hunstman did just tell him that he should follow him, but now it was clear he meant for him to be on his way.

"I cannot. I gave up my heart so that the Queen would spare Snow's. Don't let my sacrifice be in vain. Find her."

David nodded, looked at the doors down the hall, then burst out of them.

Stall her. From where he'd stood he'd given an attempt that was pitiful at best. He could have guessed what he might try to do to "stall" the queen, the boy only needed to drop his pants and let his cock do the thinking for a few moments to stall her, but no. The Huntsman went right to her room and informed her of his escape immediately. Idiot.

"Where is he? The prisoner!" Regina demanded, pacing her room.

"Escaped." When she threw him across the room and against the wall with her magic, he thought that he deserved it. How the fuck was that stalling her?

"A palace full of guards, and you let him escape?!"

"I did my best."

"You failed. And do you know what happens to people who fail me, Huntsman?"

"I'll find him. You needn't worry. Leave him to me."

So that would have been his plan. He wanted to convince the Queen to let him go after David himself, where he probably would have given it a half-assed attempt. But it never came to pass, because at that moment, her genie let out a noise from her mirror that alerted the Evil Queen to look inside.

"That won't be necessary. He's mine," she'd sneered as she looked through another mirror and found Prince Charming in the forest. And then she'd done it, she'd cast her spell and sent him through a dark portal into the Infinite Forest. The Infinite Fucking Forest. That was her play! He practiced breathing in and out as his head began to pound, he tried to be calm and remind himself that it could have been worse. The Queen could have taken off, she could have tracked David down herself and instead all she'd done was send him to a Cursed Forest.

The Infinite Forest. A section of woods that by curse or by chance made the woods look too similar to navigate. Often times, victims inside the Infinite Forest made circles over and over and over again in the same place, unable to recognize where they were. It could be broken. All curses could be broken, and if this was a curse it was a weak one at that. It held it's victims only until they figured out how to use their heads and begin to mark where they'd been and were going in order to escape. But unfortunately he was unable to tell David that just running about the place wasn't going to get him anywhere. He rolled his eyes and prepared to wait, prepared to hear the harsh whispers of the Seer that ordered him to stay put and just see how things played out; she seemed to be fond of doing that these days. Instead what he got was a push.

For once, she wanted him to intervene. For once she wanted him to go and help David. She wanted him to cast a spell on…a ring? A green ring?

_A ring. A green ring. It sat upon Snow's finger, and it also resided in a satchel David kept at his hip._

_"To bring magic to a world cursed without magic…"_

_A golden egg, the one he'd been working on, was in his hands, with the remainder of the True Love Potion settled inside, safe. Charming forcing the egg inside the vents of Maleficent's dragon side. Maleficent shrinking back down to size, no idea it now lay in her belly._

_"…all curses can be broken…"_

_A dark space, a cavern, The Swan holding David's sword, throwing it at Maleficent in another world; into Maleficent. The dragon burst into flame and turned to dust, but the egg endured._

_"…True Love can break any curse…"_

_The potion was in his hand in a dusty room of wood. He hastily shoved it into his pocket at the sound of a voice._

_A well, one he'd seen before in a vision, when the Seer had told him to preserve Lake Nostos magic. Magic that could return that which had been lost. A sense that the well would bring something good. The potion falling, falling, falling down into its dark depths. A thrill. Magic in a place that had no magic._

_"…prepare for your future."_

Oh…he loved it when a plan came together. He loved it when more than one plan merged perfectly and fit together so well he didn't even realize they were connected. It was a reminder, this curse was no small feat, if he wanted things to be done right, then he had to do them himself.

The green ring he'd seen on Snow's finger, the one that David had in his satchel…he recognized it. It was the ring that David's mother had given him before he left. It would be Snow's engagement ring. And as for the egg and the True Love Potion…that was an idea that had only just recently come to him, but hadn't thought through until this second. He took the gold egg that he'd been preparing for a moment like this. He'd known what he wanted to do with it the second he'd begun fashioning it as a vessel for the True Love potion. And he wanted the vessel stored inside Maleficent.

A dragon was an innately magical creature, safe inside of her it would survive the curse and hold onto it's properties. The metal would allow it to withstand the heat of a dragons stomach, the innards would protect it from outside forces, and the magic around it would allow it to grow and shrink as she did. Of course, he hadn't realized there'd been a problem with that plan until Regina had given Maleficent the curse and he'd realized that he couldn't get to the dragon to place it inside of her. The Seer, it seemed had thought around that little problem. It was up to David. And of course, his daughter.

But this was a delicate operation, requiring only one step at a time. This plan allowed him to get Charming out of the woods and back to Snow White while also getting his egg where he needed it to be. No silly deals for cloaks that nearly revealed he had much grander ideas in mind, this would be a solid deal. Literally. He just had to make sure it unfolded the way he wanted it to. With a final glance into Regina's chambers to make sure she wasn't watching David, he left.

With Snow White out of commission, it was up to him to break David's curse. Without True Love's Kiss, the only other way to break the curse was to take the victim out of the forest and deliver them to some place new or give them a guide. With magic on his side, he could do both.

"Lost, are we?" he questioned, perched happily upon a log. David was up ahead and turned back to look at him. There, on his hip, was the satchel he'd seen in his vision, the one in which David had placed the green ring. Oh, how he loved magic.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm just here to help."

"Well, no need. I'll be fine."

"No, I don't think so," he stated before David could turn and run away again. "This is the Infinite Forest. There's no way out. Well, except…my way," he tempted.

"I want nothing from you."

With a bit of magic, he kept his mind on the ring he'd seen and used his magic to pull it to him. "Not even this?" he laughed, holding the ring up for him to see.

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "My mother's ring. It was just…" his hands and eyes automatically went to the satchel he'd taken it from, but he stopped before he even opened the satchel to confirm it was gone and stared at him. "How did you get it?"

"The same way I get everything I want-magic!" he stated, sliding down from the log. "The same magic that allows me to do…this."

He allowed the ring to flip several times in the air, a useless gesture, but it was good for show. When it landed in his palm again, he applied a tracking spell to it. Appropriately, it glowed. It wasn't bright, but it was enough to dazzle the prince, enough to show him that Snow was close.

"This ring is now enchanted. The closer you get to Snow White, the brighter it will glow. Interested?"

"Give it to me."

"Ah!" he snatched his hand back before David could steal it out of his hand again. But he liked the desperation he saw. That could be very useful. "It's not something for nothing, dearie. Time to make a deal."

"No!" the Prince cried, "no more deals!"

And then he drew his sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So part TV watching, part real scene. These few didn't divide up like I thought they would but I must admit that I'm actually quite pleased with the end result. I think this chapter is actually 1 1/2 prompts that ended up combined. Nope, don't regret it. Rumple getting to interact breaks up the monotony of the watching.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one as well! Short as some of these may be, at least they're not just watching. Up next, Rumple gets back to his roots, Peace and Happy Reading!


	192. Dueling and Dealing

David drew his sword, but the truth was that this was a battle the False Prince didn't want to fight. Forget the facts that he was the Dark One or that he had magic and David didn't. The real problem was that Prince Charming was not actually a Prince, he was not the fighter his brother had been no matter how hard he pretended. And meanwhile, before he was the Dark One, he'd been a trained soldier. It might have been a while since he'd fought or even held a sword, but there was no matching the little that David the shepherd knew against what he knew!

David haphazardly flung the sword out in front of him, and he leaned back, ducking it easily. David struck again, but he eluded him again by holding out his hand and catching it in his fingers. He laughed. David took the sword back, reared again and moved to strike a blow, but he'd grown bored and had already disappeared and reappeared behind him, leaving the prince looking around cautiously for where he'd gone. He almost looked disappointed. Well…he had been bored, and it had been some time since he'd had a bit of fun. He summoned a sword from his tower and took his stance.

"Over here!" he called, drawing David's attention back to him. David charged and lunged and he allowed his sword to catch the way it was supposed to for a proper duel as old instructions and techniques he hadn't thought about for over a century filled his head. But the fight was a folly, it was always bound to be a folly for David because no matter the youth or skill he possessed he did not have magic. When David cornered him by a tree, he merely reappeared behind him, allowed David's sword to come down on the roots, and then used his sword to tap him on the leg.

"Persistent."

And predictably enough, The False Prince struck again, attacking with grunts and shouts all men had when they were pushed to the brink of anger boiling over. That was fine. He wanted him to be weak, to feel weak, he wanted David to know that there was no other path to take except the one he offered. He'd known this story long before the children had ever been born, and he wasn't about to lose control of it now, just because David didn't know what was best for himself.

He aimed upward, David grabbed at his arms, and his training took hold, he turned and elbowed him in the gut, knocking him backwards, before using the blunt edge of the sword to trip him off his feet. He regained his composure quick enough, pulling out another blade from heaven only knew where. He wasn't scared. The boy lunged again, stupidly throwing the second blade in the air and catching it in a way suitable for stabbing. When he attacked he grabbed his arms, turned his wrist in a way that wouldn't break it but would certainly be painful until he dropped one of the blades. He pushed him back, they crossed swords again before he grabbed him once more keeping his blade to his neck.

"Had enough?"

"Never," he growled.

He was just beginning to believe that. It was easy when he considered how he would have fought if it was he in his shoes and Belle who was lost. Showing him he was weak wasn't going to work. He had to show him he'd die of exhaustion before he ever won this battle. So this time, when Charming reared back, he let him cut him, just below his right eye, on his cheek. David paused, looking almost shocked and proud he'd landed the blow, but he continued to smile. He laughed, then gathered up his magic and waved it over his flesh, feeling it knit back together easily.

Charming swung his sword wildly and pointlessly, he only needed to step back to avoid it and when he did the Prince lost his footing and doubled over, presenting the back of his neck to him. He hit him on the back of his head with his sword then pushed him back against a tree with preternatural strength that sent him sailing into a tree. He lost his sword in the action, one which he quickly picked up and when the prince stopped rolling around, placed against his neck.

"Looking for this?"

Finally, fear and panic seemed to douse his hot-headedness as he looked up at him.

"So brave. So gallant. So pointless. Bravery won't get you out this forest, dearie. Magic will. Trust me. This is a deal you want to make, because we both want the same thing."

David glanced at the sword, then back up at him. "What's that?"

He smiled as he slipped the ring in his palm over one of his fingers. "Why, you and your true love to be together, of course," he insisted, flipping the finger over and showing him the still glowing ring.

"What do you want for it?"

"So glad you asked, dearie!"

He moved aside so that David could get to his feet, then he flipped his sword over and handed it back to him. David hesitated, but eventually wrapped his hand around the hilt and sheathed it. With a wave of his hand, the sword he'd fought with was exchanged for the glittering purple potion that he probably had no idea came from him.

"Behold. The most powerful magic of all…True Love."

As if mesmerized, David reached out. He wasn't trying to take it, he just wanted to look at it. Not that he could blame him. Were their roles reversed, he'd want to look at it more closely too, but he didn't want to allow such a thing. The last thing he needed was for the sweaty prince to accidentally drop the thing he'd spent so much time trying to get right.

"Ah! Careful. This is all I have left of it."

"What do you know of True Love?" the Prince snapped selfishly.

"Well, not so much as you, perhaps, but not so little as you might think," he sneered.

A comment like that made his chest hurt. At the moment, with all the running around Snow and David had done he knew not much more of the joys of True Love than the boy did, but that was the thing, if he was successful then David would know more, much more, far more than he ever had. It was easy to be jealous when he realized that was knowledge that he had let pass him by…all for a moment like this. It had to be worth it.

"You? You loved someone?" David questioned in disbelief.

"It was a brief flicker of light amidst an ocean of darkness," he was letting on to more than he should have, but if this was what David needed to hear to trust him, if this was what he needed to hear to make the sacrifice he'd made where Belle was concerned mean something, then so be it.

"What happened?"

"She died," he answered simply, leaving out the details he could barely fathom some days. "That's the thing about True Love, dearie. It can slip through your fingers. It's the most powerful magic in the world. The only magic powerful enough to break any curse. It must be protected at all costs."

"I don't understand. What exactly is it you want me to do?" he questioned, growing more and more agitated.

He rolled his eyes, wasn't it entirely obvious already? "I want you to help me protect it by putting it in a safe place for me!" he explained, summoning the small egg he'd designed. He fit the vial inside it's cushioning, felt the spells around it once it was closed to be sure everything was active and strong enough for where it was going. He locked it magically, knowing that when he was in a World Without Magic, he'd have the key to get back inside. All was set for delivery from the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming in just a few decades.

"And where is that?"

"Inside the belly of a beast, of course!" he exclaimed, tossing it to David. He caught it perfectly, deftly, and looked it over before glancing back at him. "Why hide it?"

"Let's just say, I'm saving it for a rainy day. So…shall we?" he put the ring back on his finger and wiggled it in front of David once more. The boy homed in on it with predictable accuracy. Finally, he sneered.

"Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, a short chapter, but I am a fan of how it came out. These two scenes just fit really well together and make for a lot of action, a lot of talking, and some really great reflection where Belle is concerned.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. Short or not, seen or not, I hope you'll like this chapter. I am pleased with it so I hope you'll be too. Peace and Happy Reading!


	193. Watching and Waiting

He broke the curse by taking David to Maleficient's Palace. Well…not quite Maleficient's Palace, it was actually the shores right across from that castle. She'd done wonders with it in the last few years, elevating it high over the forest so that it stuck out like a sore thumb. He explained to Charming that he needed him to leave the egg within the beast inside and gave him a potion, one that would allow him to move about inside the castle without being detected by her. He explained it calmly and confidently, but didn't tell him that it was only a theory he was working on. He was blocked from getting inside the Dragon's Palace, his magic on the other hand…he was crossing his fingers the witch had forgotten that little potion. He'd learned the hard way when Belle had been taken by her and her friends, perhaps she hadn't yet.

David looked ominously out across the water to the castle on the other side. "And that's it?" he questioned with the potion in his hand. "That's all I have to do, and you'll give me the ring with the spell put on it."

He said it as if what he had to do was a little thing. The boy didn't know about Maleficent or the beast within and he doubted he'd consider it "all" once he got inside. But for as uneducated as he was, he was a smart one. He'd known to be specific in his asking, to put terms and conditions on their deal. "The ring with the spell," he'd said…he'd already learned a lot. Someday, when he was King, that would suit him.

"Do this…" he snapped his fingers and a white horse appeared behind him tied to a log on the shore, "and I'll even throw in a steed so you make it there with haste."

That appeared to be satisfactory enough for David. He nodded his head once, then tossed the potion he'd given him back. As soon as he saw him swallow, he used his magic to get him inside the grounds.

And then there was nothing to do but what he'd been doing nearly all his life. Watch. And wait.

Once David was gone, he created an indent in the sand and filled it with seawater. He summoned the herbs and spices he had in his castle and forced the water to come to simmer at the proper temperature, then he cast his charm and watched. The potion must have worked, because David was in the castle, alone in the throne room with no sign of Maleficent being any wiser to his presence. He hid himself and the egg behind the throne and an hour or so later, the real fun began.

Maleficent climbed the stairs in her sanctuary before her, and then sat with satisfaction on her throne. That feeling lasted all of twelve seconds before David emerged and put a sword to her neck. There was a brief exchange of words before the woman did as he assumed she would. She might have looked kinder and gentler in her purple clothes as her body prepared her to go into heat, but she was still the dreadful woman he'd always known. When David threatened her she cast the room into darkness and transformed into a dragon.

He couldn't hear through his little version of a sandy cauldron, but he didn't need to. The dragon's roar shook the forest around him to the core. Fear and shock coursed over David's face as he realized exactly what the beast he faced was, but still, he didn't give up. He hadn't expected him to. This was for Snow White after all. He'd always known that David wasn't likely to take a look at the dragon and call it quits not when his true love was within his grasp. And he didn't.

For a while, it was touch and go. He hadn't told David how to get the egg inside the dragon, as that would have given the task away. Instead, he'd decided early on to let him figure it out for himself. And after a few moments of running, once the shock wore off and he was able to stop and look and think about what was expected of him, he saw that the boy had an idea. He called on the dragon, ran up steps to a second floor, and jumped onto her back, riding her like she was some sort of bucking pony instead of a fire breathing dragon. And then he did it. He shoved the egg into the dragons venting gills.

She roared in pain, but it only forced her to take in a breath which would lodge the egg. From there, the magic would do the rest to protect it. He had thought before he sent David along that the good thing about the egg was that it was covered in riches so even if it dislodged at a certain point the dragon would have an instinct to protect it. But he didn't feel any need to prepare for that. His plan was perfect. And it was done.

David dropped to the floor and as she wound up to use her fire breath he watched as he ran up the stairs toward the window and…

He looked up, away from the pool of water and glanced over at the castle across the sea. Sure enough, there was a small figure falling from the castle into the waters below. David. A dragon roared in anguish over her lost prey, the pain in her vent forgotten, and he smiled. He was happy. The Seer was happy. Even Nimue seemed impressed.

He looked at the ring he held in the palm of his hand, then closed his eyes, took a deep breath and…there it was, a vision.

_David walked up to a coffin made of glass, and kissed a cursed Snow White. Her eyes opened. They were together. A hand moved protectively over a rounded belly, swollen with child...and with magic._

It was going to work.

It took David a few moments to swim from the castle to meet him on the shores again, enough time for him to banish the pool of water he'd been using and build David a fire. In the chilly weather, the last thing he needed was for him to freeze to death on his way to meet his Princess. When he finally came out of the water the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't wearing the same thing he had been in his vision. The outfit he'd been wearing had been red and grand and princely. Now that he focused on it, he felt that those clothes were made for an adventure, good for slaying a dragon or hiding a magic potion, but not for making a claim on royalty. Funny the things one took notice of when confidence and success abounded.

"Impressive, dearie. Very impressive, indeed. Come warm yourself."

"I have done what you've asked. Return my ring to me!" he shouted approaching him. Then again…what was a fire when he could use magic to warm him easily enough.

"Of course…you're in a bit of a rush, how rude of me." he produced the ring, not glowing nearly as strong as it had before because they were a fair distance from Snow, he knew it would eventually. Somehow these two always found one another. So long as it continued to benefit him, he didn't see a problem with it. "With this…Prince Charming…you will find her."

And marry her, and she would bear a daughter, the Savior…the Swan.

"Thank you," David muttered taking the ring and moving around him toward the horse.

He would have been happy to let him go save for the chill he felt in his fingers when he collected the ring. The thought of his clothes returned and he turned before the Prince could get much farther.

"Something's missing," he called. When David turned he cast his magic over him, a spell to dry and warm him and another to replace his old leather clothes that he'd been wearing for months it seemed with new ones that looked strikingly similar to those he'd seen in his vision. "Now, you're ready for your big moment!" he announced, but David hardly looked impressed as he looked himself over.

"Why do you want us together? What do you get out of it?"

"I'm a fan of true love, dearie. And, more importantly, what it creates."

"Oh yeah, what's that?" he asked with suspicion. He only smiled at him.

"Well if you don't know that, dearie there's not much I can do to help you!"

The joke was over his innocent head and eventually, he shook it away. "Fine…I have to go!"

"Indeed you do, Snow White awaits!" he confirmed as David untied the horse and mounted him. "Remember Prince Charming…things are not always what they seem. True Love's Kiss can break any curse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter that pretty much just needed a bit of framing. More of the same old same old. It's the next chapter that is the really important one.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. This one is short, as is the next one, but even I have to admit that while I'm not a huge Snowing shipper, the moment in and of itself is iconic enough it always makes me happy. Peace and Happy Reading!


	194. The Big Moment

He could have gone home. He could have gone back to his own castle once David left him, made himself busy with spinning or tinkering, he could have checked on Regina as he watched in the mirror for David to arrive and kiss Snow White, for the Curse to break, for Regina's plan to fail. But he didn't. He was growing to despise watching everything in the cauldron and crystal ball; it made his eyes hurt. And besides, he felt like these last few weeks had been leading up to more than just a seat alone by a crystal ball.

So he found Snow White and the dwarves who were busy polishing the coffin that held her form, laid out and covered with a blanket. Someone, probably Granny or Red, had changed her clothes for her. She now wore a delicate white garment that would have been too cold for the chilly air, but she certainly wasn't feeling cold where she was now. If the theories on the Sleeping Curse and where the victim's soul went to were right, she was lucky she wasn't burned.

He cast a spell of invisibility over himself and kept his distance, watching and waiting, watching and waiting. When he could, he summoned his crystal ball and looked inside to check on David, hoping for no more diversions from the Queen. He waited for him to arrive here, where he was, where she was. On foot it would have taken him days, with a horse it took him only a single day, one unendingly long twenty-four hour period, just long enough for the dwarves to put the finishing touches on a coffin, something miraculously build. Made of glass as well as timbers, he was, after all, a tradesman at heart, and he'd always be able to admire a well put together piece. Her coffin was just that. Glorious and beautiful, it might have paled in comparison to his Belle, but it suited the Princess. It was almost too bad that it wouldn't be used as it deserved to be.

It was snowing when he finally heard the hoofbeats of Charming's horse and even he had to admit it was a glorious sight, even if he knew that David's heart would break for just a moment when he saw it. When David finally came, he stayed out of the way, but let himself slip off the stump he'd been waiting on and come closer to see it all. This was, after all, a moment he'd been waiting over a century for, ever since he'd seen the connection that day in Cora's ballroom. The dwarves gathered around the coffin and turned when David flung himself from his horse. He approached quickly but stopped when the older one muttered "You're too late," his voice raspy with grief.

"No," David muttered as the dwarves stepped aside to let him see the casket. He put it together quickly enough, the dwarves, the coffin, the woman inside who didn't fog the glass with breath. Naturally, his assumption was death.

"No!" David cried predictably as the perceived truth overwhelmed him. He held his breath as David ran forward, to her side, and looked down at her frozen face, nearly the same shade as her gown. "Open it," he half asked, half ordered.

The dwarves stood still, keeping their ever-constant vigil. "I'm sorry, she's gone," Grumpy reasoned.

David lowered his head, reached out to touch the glass but disoriented as he was from shock his hand landed in an odd fashion. Grief could do that to a person. His heart bled for him. Even if he knew the girl wasn't dead, for the moment David did believe it. It hurt to lose people that were beloved to magic, good or evil.

"At least let me say goodbye," David finally reasoned, looking up at the dwarves with tears in their eyes.

They looked among themselves for a moment, Grumpy looking between his two brothers, but then they did as David asked and more. Instead of just granting him privacy to say a few words they removed the glass lid of the coffin. When it and the dwarves were out of the way, David stepped closer, fell to his knees before it, and lowered his head to kiss her without a moment of hesitation.

From all around he felt a powerful wind sweep over him. The trees rippled with it, the air cleared, the snow stopped…the whole damn day seemed brighter than it had before. Even the dwarves seemed to notice it. An interesting reaction, he hadn't planned on. The gasp, however, that Snow White let out as her eyes opened and the curse broke was textbook. The smile on David's face as he peered down at her…that was just as expected.

"You…" Snow breathed looking up at him, taking deep clean breaths of air before she reached up to touch David. "You found me."

"Did you ever doubt I would?" he asked taking her hand in his own to help her sit up.

"Truthfully...the glass coffin gave me pause."

"Well, you never have to worry. I will always find you," he whispered, cupping her cheek in his hand.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise," he whispered before kissing her again.

The dwarves were crying, hugging one another as he swept her out of her coffin and spun her around like something out of a fairy tale. If he was honest, they weren't the only ones crying. He was too. He allowed a single tear to roll down his cheek as he watched the scene unfold.

Over a hundred years spent planning a moment like this and all he could think of was Belle. He knew why he needed them, the role they played in his future as well as the future of the entire realm, but he couldn't help but cheer them on at least a little and wish them some kind of happiness, the kind he'd never had with Belle. But, maybe, just maybe, it was something that awaited him when he finally arrived in that new land and his son was before him once more.

"Nearly there, Bae…nearly there…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, again, it's short, but the thought of hitching this moment to the chapter before or the one after was just...no. This scene, whether you are a Snowing shipper or not, it's too important and iconic not to let it have the space it deserves. For that reason, I also didn't want to have Rumple watching it from his tower. This is sort of what he's been waiting for ever since the Seer first gave him the vision, watching in a cauldron or a mirror just wasn't going to be good enough. I wanted him to be there, to see it for himself. But I also wanted to do my best to keep it short and to the point, stripped of emotion. That's not because Rumple doesn't feel for this moment, the end shows that he does and also reveals the key. Happy and good as this moment is, it's painful because it reminds him of Belle. It's not sterile in the beginning because he doesn't feel; it's sterile because he's trying not to feel.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the last chapter. The next one has length to it, I promise. In 219 chapters there have to be a few that are super short. And just think, this is the long version! We see two different versions of this scene in season one, the long one, this one, at the beginning of the season and then a shorter abridged version at the end. I used the longer version because I don't think the versions are "different" I just think the editors said "they've seen this already just shorten it to get to the important stuff." And that important stuff is coming up next! Peace and Happy Reading!


	195. The War That Came After

Sometimes he was so fucking tired of sitting and waiting that he wanted to beat his head against the damn wall! It should have been easy! So simple! Snow and David were together, they were happy, they were kissing. Kissing should have led to a little something more, then to a pregnancy, then to an angry Regina and then to a Curse! It was simple!

But of course, that wasn't what had happened. He'd forgotten something in their story, something the Seer had shown to him time and time again, something he'd planned for and yet had completely forgotten about by the time Snow and David were together. All because of one conversation.

Unable to bring himself to go back to his tower and watch he'd followed the False Prince and Princess to the shore, a bank adjacent to King George's castle. And then watched it all play out with happiness and then horror.

"How did you do it?" she asked him, her hands in the crook of his elbow.

"With this," he pronounced, producing his mother's green ring. "It's my mother's ring. It…led me back to you. And now…I never want it off your finger."

Snow stared at him in happy shock as he got down on one knee and held it out before her.

"Will you marry me?"

She said nothing. Just smiled as she held out her left hand for him, fingers spread in anticipation of what would settle there. He slipped it on and as she held out her hand to examine it there, he got to his feet once more.

"What do you think?" she questioned before stepping closer so that she could kiss him. It would have been a perfect moment, for all parties involved, a truly happy ending that would lead to the Savior…if she hadn't pulled away.

"What is it?" David asked.

"There's the little matter of your father and my stepmother."

"Ah…that. I'm open to suggestions."

"Here's one," Snow glanced over at the castle on the sea in the distance. "Let's take back the kingdom."

"How?"

"Like we shall do everything…together."

And so it was. War. That was what one conversation had led to; among other things. There was a quick confession to Snow about who he really was, that his name wasn't James, that he wasn't a prince that George wasn't his father, that it was his brother who had really been the prince and his mother was out living cabin he'd apparently hidden her in sometime after defying George. She took it well, kept her head about her, and stayed focused. He was a false prince but she was a real princess, and she saw a better life ahead of them if the Kingdoms united under the pair of them. In his mind, he'd always known Snow was bound to sit on the throne once more and that their future together would lead to war, he'd warned Clopin about it not long before David had taken on the alias of Prince James. But he hadn't assumed he would ever grow as frustrated with it as he did.

He'd been right about Snow and David. They traveled together everywhere they went, but unmarried as they were they never shared a bed, at least in nothing that he'd seen. The closest they'd ever come was when they camped out with Red one night and it had snowed. They'd slept side by side that night for warmth but that was all it was for. No one made a move, no one attempted to initiate anything beyond sleep. He needed this war over with. He needed them back in their castle, sitting on their thrones, because he knew that the second they were was when they would wed and finally share a bed.

The problem in all that was that it wasn't going well. They traveled about both Kingdoms, David, under the name James as they agreed not to tell the Kingdom until after he was crowned about his heritage, and Snow. Red and Granny helped David to keep Ruth hidden away and, unafraid of Regina and King George, they attempted to rally troops in both lands, people who were tired of George and Regina and wanted the pair stopped. But George was already putting up a fight against them and Regina…

Regina had been alerted to the fact that Snow was awake almost immediately after it had happened. Although she hadn't yet approached George about an alliance to put what she considered "the rebels" down, he knew that it was coming. For now, however, she believed that mere force was enough to scare them away. Regina showed up to one of her rallies and made a spectacle with her magic, tied David up, addressed her step-daughter, and then attacked a young girl in order to provoke an undignified response from Snow. He watched from his tower as Snow ran across the space between them, dove for the Queen either to tackle or kill with the sword, he couldn't be sure, but Regina disappeared before anything could happen. Snow fell into the mud, staining her clothes, mud smeared on her chin, hair wild from sleeping in the forest so long…she looked far from a regal Queen. And Regina, while too terrible to be called regal, at least looked the part, not to mention, she was also terrifying. No one would follow after Snow, not with the way the cards were stacked, not now.

Regina addressed her once more and he could tell just by the look in Snow's eyes that whatever she said to her had an impact. The look followed her back to the tents that the dwarves and David had been using as their headquarters as they traveled through the Kingdom. They met outside, chatted around a table near a stream, but not close enough for him to hear what they were saying. He had no choice but to watch and he was alright with that. Whatever she was saying David disagreed with, that much was obvious. The dwarves seemed to agree with her, but there was no surprise there. The conversation ended with a few stern words to David from Snow before she got up and walked away.

As the dwarves rounded on a distraught David, he watched Snow. He kept his eyes on her as she went inside and began to pack her things; began…but never ended. She started to get things together, but eventually sat down in defeat, the lost look in her eyes overtaking the rest of her face before she started to cry. And the others?

Seeing nothing of note happening with Snow he turned his attention back to the men. The dwarves and David appeared to be arguing, probably over what Snow had said; whatever it might have been. And then they left David there, left David at the table looking more determined than he ever had. He paused for a few moments before getting up and sneaking around back of the tent, then he reached into the small satchel he had with him and pulled from it a small vial filled with…

Well! That was a surprise. The last time David had come to see him, he'd used a transportation potion that Grumpy had given him. He thought that he'd used all of it then, but it appeared there was one swallow left. He watched as he swallowed it down and a moment later he felt David's presence at the edge of his property. He rolled his eyes. Some people just never learned to solve their own problems. For centuries people accused Dark Ones of being addicted to magic but no one ever said anything about the people that came to see them for answers and magic over and over and over again. What of them? Couldn't one say they were addicted as well?

What matter was it to him? He needed their child just as much as he'd needed Cora's child. Though the Seer was whispering in his ear that he shouldn't interfere, he knew he always would, as long as they always came to him. Until he got to Baelfire, he would do whatever was required of him to get that child. If this helped them get one step closer to going to bed together then so be it.

When David finally arrived he didn't go downstairs to greet him as he had before. The truth was that he'd only seen scenes play out, he could take guesses as to what had happened, but he didn't know for sure. If that were the case he wanted to be here, in his Tower where he could work magic if necessary. So instead he used his voice, magically amplified to draw the False Prince up to his chamber where he sat working on the Great Wheel. When they finally made eye contact, he looked away.

"You again? Didn't I just help you wake your princess?"

"Now I need your help once more. Long ago you made Snow remember who she was when a spell blinded her. I need you to do it again."

"Gone blind again has she?" he piqued, choosing his words carefully. What he needed was for David to tell him what was happening, what he wanted was for it not to look like he was fishing for the information. "My, my that does seem to happen often! Has she tried a pair of spectacles?"

"No, not…not physically blind. She just can't see who she is."

"And who do you say she is?" he prodded, carefully assessing. Regina had said something to her, something that bothered her, something that hit her self-esteem. That was what he'd figured so far.

"A Queen!" David roared. "The Queen of her father's Kingdom!"

"Oh, well, perhaps it's you that needs clarification, her father's Kingdom already has a Queen."

"Regina is not worthy, Snow is," he insisted. "Snow deserves to sit on that throne, it'll be a better Kingdom under her rule. Regina knows it that's why she's threatening Snow. Snow has everything she needs to fight her, she just has to see it. We could take Regina's offer, go off with the dwarves, run away and live in exile like Regina wants but she'll never be happy, not really. I have to convince her this is the wrong decision to make."

Oh, how he loved the gullible ones. He'd heard enough to put the pieces together easily enough. Regina wanted them gone, Snow, David, the dwarves, and in return she'd promised not to kill her and probably not to kill others as well. If she stayed, well the opposite wasn't hard to figure out. David thought Snow just needed a little self-esteem. He wasn't wrong. If his assessment was correct that certainly would help. But what would also help was her figuring out what she wanted. For so long all she'd wanted was David and to stay alive. Now she had David and her life and so the deal was appealing to her. He had to make it unappealing. And he had an idea about how he might do that. It all hung on David.

"Well…I'm sorry to say, but what you seek…it doesn't exist."

"Oh…come on…you must have something that can change Snow's mind."

"If she doesn't wanna fight the Queen, there's nothing I can do to change that."

"I just need a way to make her believe in something that I already know. That she can face Regina and win."

It was almost cute how easy he thought that was, but changing a mind hadn't been done because it was one of the most difficult things to do. But he could see he wasn't going to back down easy. He was desperate. Time made people desperate. He recalled how he saw Snow go into the tent and begin to pack. The offer Regina made had a time restriction. They had to leave right away. He was desperate because they were running out of time. But that didn't change things. It just meant that they had to figure something out quickly.

Confidence was an interesting topic in the magical community. There were often two types of spells given for confidence. The first was a bitter potion that took just as much confidence to make it as it produced. It took three moon cycles to create and he currently didn't have any sitting around in his tower. However, that potion was not what the Princess needed. That spell was for people who did, in fact, lack confidence; who had none to begin with. Snow wasn't that person. He'd been watching her all her life, he knew that she did have confidence she just needed a little bit of help to harvest it. For that kind of confidence, the potion was easy.

It was a placebo. It was something given to the individual so they could be told it was exactly what they needed only to find later there was actually no magic to it. Most sorcerers used water, convinced their clients that it was a potion, and when they took it they assumed it brought them what they already had and that was what made it work. He couldn't see Snow taking another potion. Not from him. And if David gave her a potion she'd immediately suspect where he'd gotten it. He knew what he wanted to do, what trick he wanted to pull.

"Magic can't make someone believe, dearie," he snapped rising to his feet. "It works the other way around. Belief must come from within. You know, the Queen's offer was a fair one. Do yourself a favor and take it. Ruling a kingdom ain't all it's cracked up to be. Just ask your dear old brother. Oh, wait. He died. You see my point!" he laughed giving him a friendly shove and moving around him.

"No…" as he sat back down at the wheel David suddenly spun and grabbed his spool, keeping him from his work. "I didn't come here to take "no" for an answer. Now you must have something. You always do. Just name your price."

"I can't give something away that's already been taken, dearie."

"Already taken…what does that mean? The answer exists? Someone else has it? Tell me who I'll find it, I'll get it!"

"Oh, I doubt you'll have the time for that!" he blanched sitting back at his wheel. "The fact that this individual has it would contradict that."

"'It', what is 'it'?"

He took a breath and turned in his seat to face David again. "Ever heard of a sword in a stone? The legendary proclaimer of Kings…or Queens."

"Of course…the sword in the stone…you know where it is?"

"Well of course I do, and it won't help you?"

"I'll do anything."

"Heroic, but useless," he smiled turning back to his wheel and picking up the ball of yarn he was currently turning into gold. "The sword has been pulled. Shame. It sounds like exactly what your princess needs to remind her who the real ruler is."

He didn't look back at David, but the silence spoke for itself. He'd been watching the boy all his life he knew that he was often quiet before he came up with a grand idea. He didn't know if he could call this one grand, though, since he'd practically given it to him on a silver platter.

"Send me back," David insisted, appearing on the other side of the wheel. "I know you've done it before, whatever the cost, I'll pay it."

 _Don't interfere,_ the Seer told him. Perhaps there was something to that.

"The cost is you stop bothering me without being welcome," he growled. "I can't solve all your problems, dearie. Some of them you have to handle yourself. You are a prince now after all."

David nodded. "Deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this right here folks is the chapter that really broke this entire fiction. Figuratively speaking of course. I had a goal to clock this fiction in at around 200 chapters and up until this point I did. It was prompted at 204 for the longest time and then we got to "let's take back the Kingdom" and I realized there was a lot of stuff I'd left out of prompts but couldn't ignore in order to tell the story. This is where the fiction went from 204 to 219. So if you are looking at the chapters left to go and thinking "how am I not done yet?!" Blame it on Snowing deciding to take back the Kingdom.
> 
> Thank you dear RolfB for your continued comments. I know this chapter isn't the most exciting as it covers quite a bit of time, but there are a few gems in here. Personally, I'm a fan of the Seer's "don't interfere" comment when Rumple wonders what he should ask from David. Is she talking about now? Or later? Hm? Peace and Happy Reading!


	196. The False Prince's False Sword

He gave an uncaring wave, a simple flick of his wrist that would dismiss David with the idea that he really wanted nothing to do with him, but the truth was that the second he left the chambers, he waved his hand over the crystal ball and watched him appear back in their tent. It was the middle of the night, but David didn't go inside to his cot next to Snow. He didn't pack or even seek out the dwarves. Instead, he went to the hitching post, untied his horse, and rode away.

He rode into town, the same town that he and Snow had been to earlier, and let himself into a barn. He watched as he searched and searched and searched before finding a lone sword in a scabbard. The Prince paid for it and poured a handful of coins into the scabbard before taking it away. On his horse, he rode for more than half the night, across fields, over bridges, and finally he left his horse at the bottom of a hill. He was back in his own country now, not far from the place he grew up in. That was probably how he knew there was a stone at the top with a crack running through it. It was in that rock that he jammed the stolen sword, before quickly riding back to their camp.

He must have been exhausted, but he didn't show it. To be perfectly honest, when he rode back into camp Snow looked like she'd had a worse night than he had. When he rode up to her, she was shooting arrows at a target, looking like a woman on a mission or a woman without one. But after a brief exchange, Snow went with him. The pair rode on well into the afternoon until they were back at the place that David had stashed the sword. David walked up to it and acted with perfection, straining to pull the sword from the stone. Then Snow approached it, pulled it free easily, and the look in her eyes finally changed. She went from the sad, scared eyes she'd had after Regina's encounter back to determination.

All the while, he stayed in his tower and grinned. The boy gave her back her belief just as he'd wanted him to. Impressive. Just as impressive as the effect it had on her.

Once she pulled the sword from the stone, the two made haste back to the village that Regina had attacked yesterday. It was the same as it had been the day before. Snow addressed the crowd, sword in hand, and a few moments later, Regina rolled up in her carriage. The pair spoke for a few brief moments, and then Regina struck. Instead of a young girl, she levitated Grumpy in the air. After an encouraging word from David, Snow charged. Regina disappeared again…but this time; it was different. For after Snow swung the sword and realized she was gone, she turned and swung again; blindly…but not without knowledge.

Grumpy dropped to the ground as the Queen shook a bit and put her hand to her cheek. Snow had gotten her. She'd learned from her mistakes yesterday as well as Regina's predictability, and she'd gotten her! It was a small cut, one just below her eye, but it spoke volumes to the people, to Regina, but especially to Snow White, who gritted her teeth and advanced upon the Queen with a sneer. Words were exchanged, but there were only two that were important, only two that she said so sternly that he could read them on her lips.

"My Kingdom."

At last, a Snow White prepared to fight, and her courage and confidence spread like wildfire. As Regina vanished, people pledged themselves to her, to fight for her! They laid down their swords, bent their knees, lowered their heads! Men kissed their wives and joined her army, the elderly brought out horses they no longer needed, children brought weapons and food for the cause. It was the start of an army; a ragged one indeed, but he knew that it was all she needed. Today she took the town. Tomorrow she'd take the Kingdom, which was why he was surprised to see her leave the celebration and wander into the woods alone. As David made himself busy with dwarves and organizing the people, she wandered off with the sword in her hand, and soon he understood why.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" The summons tugged at him, called to him as he spun. It wasn't done three times, but it was powerful enough to reach him. It was powerful enough to urge him to go. Power, magical or otherwise, was a hell of a thing.

"Rumpelstiltskin!"

"What do you want?!" he cried. Snow White was the summoner, a small figure in a clearing of dazzling shadows and sun. She was proud when she looked him over. Her back was straight, her shoulders perfectly set, her face confident. Confidence…she wore it well.

"We need to discuss the deal you made with Charming."

"Have to be a bit more specific, dearie." As he'd just told her fiancé, they'd come to him too often for "the deal" to tell him what she wanted to talk about, even if he already had a good idea of what she wanted.

"He came to you searching for something powerful enough to vanquish the Queen," she explained. "You told him of Excalibur. Now whatever it is that he promised you in return, I am prepared to pay it. But I won't allow him to remain in your debt."

He nearly rolled his eyes. True Love…he should have known that she would have been willing to do such a thing. He'd have done it in a heartbeat for Belle. Love truly did change people, though, in Snow's case, this wasn't so much a change as an exaggeration of who she'd always been. She would have done the same thing if the cricket had led her to that fake sword.

"How nauseatingly romantic."

"What did he promise you?" she pressed. "With you, everything comes with a cost."

He smiled. They'd shared nearly everything since David broke that curse, that much he knew. He might not have heard it, but he'd watched as they spent hours talking at night. She knew who David truly was, where he came from, what happened leading up to her curse, everything! But he hadn't told her this. Cute.

"It's true. Your prince came to ask for aid fighting the Queen. I told him I had nothing to give, and I didn't."

She glared at him, her smile knowing, but she deceived herself. She didn't know what she thought she knew. "Then how did you know where to find Excalibur?"

Oh, he didn't know what was funnier, that David had tried to convince her that he'd found Excalibur itself or that Snow had believed him. If it were him, he would have left out the details and just told her it was a different sword for one very important reason. He stepped up to Snow White and put his hand to his mouth as if he were preparing to tell her a secret, or rather save her from her own embarrassment.

"Everyone knows it's in Camelot."

"But it's not…" she took a step forward and held the sword in her hand out between the two of them gallantly. "I possess it now."

He nearly laughed. He'd watched David steal it from a barn that very morning before she woke. Even if it wasn't cheaply made, the metal held no hint of magic. "If that were Excalibur, I wouldn't be able to do...this!" With a bit of magic, he dissolved the sword into silver dust, leaving nothing in her hand but the jeweled hilt. The girl looked on in shock. "Sword's a fake, dearie. Shoddy craftsmanship, too. But then again, what can you expect from a shepherd? Lucky it wasn't made out of wool!"

"I struck Regina!" Snow argued. "I drew blood!"

"Enough of your ramblings!" he cried, stepping forward and wrapping his hands delicately around her neck. She barely noticed that he'd wrapped another hand around the charm hanging from her neck. It was all an act. He had to be what she wanted him to be, like he was for everyone. He could tell her about the game that he'd played, about the idea that he'd given her dear Charming…but she didn't need him to be that person. She wanted him to be-

With a single gesture, he pulled the charm from her neck, and it let out a snap that forced her to put her hand to her neck where it no longer resided. It meant nothing to him, nothing but what it meant to her.

"No. Please," she gasped. "That belonged to my mother."

"And now it belongs to me," he pronounced. "You're right about one thing, dearie. Everything comes with a cost, including wasting my time."

And then he disappeared. He'd leave David to tell her what she needed to know. And he'd leave her army to remind her of who she was, sword or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite of the chapters, but it is what it is. We have to cover this sort of stuff because it is important to the future. But hey, look on the bright side, at least Rumple got to participate in this instead of just watching through a mirror. That's positive, right.
> 
> Thank you RolfB and RedtailedHawkens for your very kind comments! I did my best with this chapter, though I know it's not perfect. I did try to exploit the dialogue a bit here. I know it sounds like David crafted the sword himself, but like Rumple said, he's a farmer, and because of the time constraints on this episode (again), I didn't feel there was time for David to actually try and make the sword himself. So I had him pay for one and take it. The dialogue never actually says he makes it, only implies it. But it could also imply this scenario. Up next, we'll continue on with the War. Peace and Happy Reading!


	197. Well Enough Alone

After a year, the war was still dragging on. Slowly it dragged, begrudgingly. But there was evidence that there was hope on the horizon. In the beginning, it truly had seemed like it was merely a rebel uprising, but after a year, it was obviously more than that. People joined David and Snow in droves, flocked to them, really! They started in the small towns, similar to the place Regina had threatened the Princess and drew from there to make their army. For the most part, as long as that was all they were doing, George and Regina continued to ignore them. Stupidly, in his opinion. They attacked their camp on more than one occasion. Snow and David intelligently gave the order not to fight but rather to flee and regroup elsewhere. And then, one night, after their army had grown close to a thousand, George foolishly sent a small platoon after them, and Snow and David had attacked. They'd claimed victory over his army easily enough, and many of the survivors had turned for them, vowing to serve them loyally.

From there, they moved from recruiting in small towns to cities, that was when George and Regina had both realized they might have a problem on their hands and formed a stronger, more official alliance. More and more, they attacked, and more and more, David and Snow won. Even he had to admit, False Prince though he may be, David was learning the ropes faster than he'd ever thought he might. Standing at Snow's side, even if he still used James's name, he was growing into quite the leader with an eye for battle. He was becoming a prince. A true prince. Not just a foolish boy playing prince or a man engaged to a princess. He took to the role like a fish to water.

Soon, it wasn't just George and Regina's troops that were attacking; Snow and David's army was doing some attacking of their own and not just on battlefields. They began claiming land. They began governing as well as warring so that he knew when the day came that they finally took what they needed, they would slide easily into a castle, just as though they'd always been there.

Snow and David weren't the only ones learning; he was too. He learned to trust the Seer. He learned to watch and not meddle, that everything had its time and place whether he rushed off to help it along or he didn't. For instance, when George realized that he was destined to fail, fall from grace and lose his Kingdom, he'd hired a new general, an old familiar face to him but not to anyone else in this land. It was none other than Lancelot of Camelot, and he'd been hired by George not to kill Snow, but rather to capture her. He was successful. One night, just after his appointment, he captured Snow White, put a bag over her head, and took her back to King George, and that was where he'd executed a brilliant but cruel plan.

"I don't care what you do to me! I will never tell you where he is!" he heard Snow shout through a mirror the moment the bag was off of her head.

George held up a hand to silence her. "I know. That's not why you're here. Would you bring our guest some water?" he requested, looking to Lancelot. He looked confused at the command, but he couldn't blame him. The task seemed beneath him. But he was an obedient knight, he remembered that much about him, and poured some water into a goblet sitting out of the table as George walked away from her.

"Times have been good for you, haven't they? I can see a light in your eyes. Cherish that. Because that light can die and be replaced by something else–pain."

"The only thing you know of pain is how to inflict it," Snow snapped, pulling the goblet from Lancelot.

"That's where you're so very, very wrong. I've had my share of pain. I had a son that I loved, died before his time. I tried to replace him with your 'Charming,' offered him the world. But he rejected me. Humiliated me in front of my kingdom. All for the sake of true love."

"Something about which you know nothing," she stated before taking a sip and meeting him at the table.

"I know more than you think."

"You? Were in love?" she taunted in disbelief.

"Yes. And she loved me. We were happy, blissful. But then, she became cursed. She drank a vile potion that made it impossible for us to conceive a child. Family is everything, my dear. Losing all hope of having one…there is no greater misery. Charming could have been that hope for me. But, instead, he made my suffering worse. For that, death is too good for him. First, he must know pain. My pain."

He felt his stomach twist sickened in his gut as fear stole over Snow's face and into her eyes. "NO!" he shouted at the mirror, at the same time that Snow did. She was looking down into the goblet, looking for something that couldn't be seen. No.

"You poisoned her?" Lancelot realized aloud.

"I cursed her," George corrected. "She will never bear a child."

He'd fret about, panicking, telling himself he had to go, had to find a cure even though he knew there was none. The Seer urged him to stay put. He'd watched the mirror like a hawk as Snow was released, tossed cruelly back into the woods at the spot her camp had once been before George's armies attacked. But she wasn't alone for long, for out of the woods came Lancelot.

After knocking him off her horse and threatening the man, she helped him to his feet, and the pair departed for a little cabin that David had hidden his mother in long ago, before the war had even started, apparently. When they arrived, David was there, so was his mother, who had an arrow sticking out of her chest surrounded by nearly half a dozen dead soldiers of King George.

All was lost. He could see that easily enough, even before they pulled the arrow free and examined it's tip, observing the wink of poison left on the wood. The wound to Ruth's chest would be a fatal one without magical intervention, and the Seer wasn't giving him a sign to go.

But they did.

While he expected them to put Ruth into the house and stay with her for her last hours, they moved quickly, prepared a wagon, loaded Ruth into it, and left for somewhere. Lancelot and David talked in the front, but Snow stayed with Ruth in the back. While the boys were away and the wagon was stopped, Ruth struggled to pull a charm from her neck, one that he recognized instantly as a gypsy charm because he had about twenty of his own. It was a charm for women, one that predicted the sex of a woman's child. Snow was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, but he watched as Ruth held Snow's hand out over the charm…and it didn't react. Snow nodded in understanding and exchanged what he could only imagine was an explanation to Ruth. But instead of growing concerned, the old woman grew excited. The words she said not only calmed Snow White, but they also made her smile.

All conversations ended when the boys returned, but as they walked on, he looked between the pair and often saw them cast glances at each other that encouraged smirks and grins. They were planning something. But what?

Lake Nostos. Oh, he knew the moment he saw it that was their plan but…it was a useless plan. Lake Nostos was no more. With the siren dead, it was now barren land, the lakebed drying up a little more every second. Still, they searched, and searched, and searched…until David raced to the place where Lancelot was, and he saw a single swallow of water left inside of a seashell. The men poured it into a canteen, and David took it to Ruth. David offered it, and she drank, or at least it appeared that she had…but he knew it wasn't so.

That water, even a sip, should have cured a wound like hers instantly, and yet there was nothing, no hint of getting better at all. That left him two conclusions. Either the water wasn't from Lake Nostos, just something left there from a rainstorm, or…she hadn't taken the sip.

Given the look Ruth kept giving Snow, he was willing to bet it was the latter. But…as he watched what unfolded, he began to see that there was method as well as madness to the Seer's instructions. Snow and David made themselves suddenly busy, and Lancelot bent his head low to listen to something Ruth said as she pressed the flask into his hands. A few moments later, the couple had constructed a simple arch and a bouquet of flowers. Though he couldn't hear, he recognized the wedding ceremony simply enough, a wedding ceremony that Lancelot officiated, in which, before he'd taken his place, he'd poured the small contents of the flask into a canteen.

Snow drank first, then David, and after they kissed, he wasn't surprised to see Ruth had died.

A few hours later, when David had buried his mother and held the charm out over Snow's hand, it did as he expected, and swung. The curse was lifted. He hadn't had to lift a finger. It was a good lesson to learn. So often in his life, he'd thought that he was the catalyst only to find that he was just another pawn of history, playing his part so that things could continue as they were supposed to. There was some relief in that because it meant that he was destined to get back to Baelfire. The future dictated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know this chapter, and it is what it is. I'm sorry these aren't more interesting, but I tried to give Rumple something to learn at the end of it.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the previous chapter, more Snowing ahead as we make our way towards the end. I did tell you this was my least favorite section, didn't I? Peace and Happy Reading!


	198. First Order of Business

It helped him to know that he didn't have to interfere; to see something play out before him and resolve perfectly gave him a blessed feeling of peace about the road he was on. But he still watched. That was a habit he'd begun and couldn't stop. As battles between Snow and David raged on with Regina and George, he got better at feeling urgency. As their army built themselves up, stronger, faster, smarter, and the other two fell, more often than not he found himself spending more time in front of his mirror and his cauldron than he did making deals. There were some that were important, but very little mattered outside of what the Seer dictated was necessary. So he watched victory after victory as Regina's hopes and dreams were dashed, and King George's Kingdom was invaded by the boy everyone believed was his son. There were only a few, he figured, that knew the truth about David, something King George had found striking. It turned out that King George had been such a terrible King that despite shouting the truth about David at the top of his lungs no one ever believed him. They were all too happy to follow "Prince James" and Snow White. Day after day, week after week, month after month…he continued to watch their progress. Though, lately, he was almost certain that watching came from a place born of selfish desperation, than need.

Sometimes he thought that he watched because when he didn't, when he was left to his own devices, his mind began to wander. And the things he thought of were not particularly things that he wanted to think of. Mostly he thought of Belle and Baelfire, of the times they'd spent together, of the lives he could have led with both of them, how his life could have been different if they were still around him. Inevitably he always ended up summoning the fantasies he'd had of Belle when she lived in the castle; Belle dressed in white, Belle in the bed beside him, Belle with a baby in her arms...fantasies of things that would never happen. That was always where he cut himself off and got back to work. He let scenes play out on the crystal ball beside him as he spun, or in the cauldron when he wanted to stretch his legs. If he was feeling particularly antsy he might rise and start making potions, simple ones that he stalked his stores with, along with a little black bag he hoped to take with him to the new world…whenever that day came.

He was getting closer. Years of war had taken their toll on the land, the people, and the monarchs. As he watched Snow and David make plans for an intricate attack one afternoon, he knew without the help of the Seer that it would be done that night. It was too good of a plan, too well planned out for it to go any other way. They took George's Kingdom that night. Their final attack was on the castle itself, George's last stronghold. They conquered it so easily it was almost laughable. Knights and archers had taken the castle in the name of their Prince and Princess in less than an hour. George himself managed to sneak out a back door and into a boat, paddling away with nothing but the clothes on his back. And that was it. Taking a castle made them official rulers again and the Prince and Princess hadn't even stepped foot on the grounds, their army had done it for them. And a good thing they had. It was all been part of the plan. For as George's Kingdom lay smoldering on the ground, the Princess and Prince had paid one of Regina's guards well to tell her that Snow was alone in the woods. She wasn't of course, but Regina, seeing no other way to win, had taken their bait and gone after her. Foolish child. So blinded by hatred she couldn't see what was coming.

She'd been too easily drawn into a carefully laid trap her stepdaughter and the fairies had set. And that very night, she was captured and brought to King George's castle along with Snow and David. They weren't like ordinary conquerors though, and they weren't shepherds or thieves anymore either, the war had changed them, made rulers of them. And so, after Regina was taken to her prison cell, the new King and Queen didn't celebrate, didn't pause for a proper coronation, instead, they called their first council meeting in their new hall. It was there in the dark of night they decided Regina's fate.

The new King and Queen sat around the war table with their closest knights and friends; along with the four commanders who had stood with them through the war, he saw The Blue Bug, the seven dwarves, Red and Granny, and the cricket. He did what he always did, summoned the image into the mirror so he could listen, then sat, spun his gold, and watched. Then he listened to the Seer and waited to decide if anything needed to be done.

"I fear the Queen will never change. We must dispense justice," Jiminy advised.

"Agreed. What are our options?" David questioned.

"How about giving me five minutes alone with her and my ax?" Grumpy replied with what he thought was sarcasm, though might have been honesty. After what Regina had put them through with the war he wouldn't put it past the dwarf. "She's still restrained, right?"

"Yes," the Blue Fairy answered. "But the magic that we used to capture her, will only keep her powerless for a short while."

"How about banishing her to another realm?" Granny suggested just as casually as she was knitting whatever the hell was in her lap. He looked up to see how the Blue Fairy would react to such a suggestion, to see if she stated any way to get from here to there. But there was nothing. No sign of any reaction on her face. Not even for them. At least all involved got to be disappointed as he was.

"We can't. It would be unconscionable to condemn another realm to the suffering that we've endured," the cricket pointed out.

"Jiminy's right," Red added. "She's our problem, and we have to deal with her."

Their first call as rulers and not just commoners, the wolf was taking it seriously. That was comforting in a way, but also unnerving.

David rose suddenly from his seat to address them all, looking as Princely as a man ever could…someone had observed more than his fair share in the last few years. "Then only one thing is certain: as long as the Queen lives, the kingdom is in danger."

"Are you saying…"

"Yes," David answered Snow before she could finish her sentence. "We must kill the Queen. Thank you all."

David dismissed the advisors, but he wasn't surprised to see Snow and David hang back. He was determined to bring about this declaration, Snow was not. He could see it in her eyes. She wasn't against it, not entirely, but she wasn't convinced it was the right thing to do either.

"You sure this is what we must do?" she asked predictably when they were alone.

"What choice do we have? As long as she draws breath, she will come after us, after you."

Snow cocked her head to one side and held her gaze with his as if searching his eyes for something. It was the same gaze Belle had given him when she was asking him a question and he'd answered it in half-truths, like she had always expected his eyes to betray him. He wondered if they had, if that had been how she'd seen through him. He wondered if Snow could see something in David's eyes now that he could not. Perhaps it was a skill that only women possessed.

"There's always a choice," Snow urged. "You stopped me from killing her once, took an arrow to save her. Why is this different?"

"I took that arrow to save your life, not hers," David corrected sitting down beside her once more. "That was an assassination. This is an execution. If we don't stop her now, there's no telling what she'll live to do."

Snow shook her head. "It doesn't feel right."

"Will any execution ever feel right?"

"I've attended executions before."

"Is it ever easy?"

"No…but this…this doesn't feel right, David," Snow whispered. "It feels more like vengeance. Maybe there's another way."

"Snow…every second she lives is one second closer to her magic coming back. We have to strike before that happens and she gets away. Snow," David reached out and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, breaking her gaze and forcing her to look in his eyes. "We don't have a lot of time."

There was a long pause in which Snow sighed sadly before nodding. "Fine…I'll sign the order. We'll do it in the morning."

He smiled in amusement as she stormed out unhappily and he waved a hand over the mirror to banish the image. An execution, Regina's execution…he wasn't about to miss that. Especially because he knew, that with any luck, she'd live to take all their happiness away yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! This episode! I didn't even really like this episode when it first came out but when writing this section I enjoyed it because once again it was actually an episode that Rumple very directly participated it. Personally, this chapter passes my own test. If I can't figure out where the "seen scene" ends and my stuff begins, I usually feel pretty good about it. So it's short, but I'm okay with how it came out.
> 
> Thank you RolfB for your comments on the previous chapter. I'm interested to see what you think of this set of chapters. 2x10 was difficult to write, it was hard to get a grip on what was going on with Rumple and what kind of magic he was actually using, but I think I got it to a place that I like it! I had to break the episode up into more chapters than originally planned, but I'm happy with it and I hope you'll be happy with it too. Peace and Happy Reading!


	199. A Deathless Execution

He didn't really care what the Seer thought of him going. He wanted to go. He wanted to be at that "execution" in person. Perhaps it was because it made him nervous. The purpose of the gathering was, after all, to kill Regina. Even though he had trust in the Seer, he had seen a number of scenarios that had come down to the wire, and if this did, he wanted to be there to stop it or rescue her. He didn't think that he'd have to rescue her, of course, not with how calm the Seer was in his mind. But he was prepared to do such a thing if it was required of him. He hadn't come all this way and waited all these years only for Regina to be killed at an execution. The Seer's prophecy was well on its way to being complete, and he'd stop at nothing to make sure it was finished.

He kept to the shadows as everyone gathered that morning, he made sure to wear a large cloak with the hood up to keep his face hidden. He wanted to be there in person, but that didn't mean he wanted to be recognized. Looking around at the crowd, he knew there were plenty that certainly would recognize him and probably fear the worst if he was spotted, not the least of which was the King and Queen, Granny and Red, the dwarves, even Jiminy. All were there, all would know him, all would have distrust toward him. Well…them and one other.

Last, but perhaps most notable, to show up for the execution was Henry. Cora's Prince didn't look well, and for once in his life, he could sympathize with the man. While the Seer's voice whispered in his ear that Regina was in no immediate danger, Henry didn't know that. As far as he knew, his child was about to be ushered to her death. He was shaking. Though he stood tall and noble as ever, he could see his body vibrate the more he fought off his tremors. Looking pale and frightened…it was expected and excusable in this situation.

Suddenly the world around him cut out. In a single flash, another sight claimed his attention.

_Regina and Henry, together, both with tears in their eyes, talking through the steel bars of a cell. "The one I love most…" Regina whispered._

_"_ _It doesn't have to be the end…. Show them regret for what you've done, the pain you've caused. Show them you can change. They will spare you. Just give them a reason. I beg of you."_

Just as he'd suspected. A desperate father. As the rest of the world came back into his field of vision, he reviewed what he'd seen. Short and brief as the vision had been, it told him enough. It was a vision of the past, a vision of this morning, probably just before Henry had come here. What they thought were their final moments together. Henry begged of her to ask for mercy so they might spare her. The bleeding heart that Snow was, it probably would work, but that wasn't the part that made him smile now. It was the first part, the bit that Regina had said, "the one I love most," her father, no doubt. He hadn't made the same mistake with her that he'd made with Zelena. That would pay off for him in the future. But not today.

The crowd, which had simply been mingling for some time, suddenly dew closer together as the air became filled with a strange quiet. It was the quiet of hushed talking, the kind that seemed silent but hummed with excited and worried voices. Over his shoulder, he heard the sound of marching, the gathering crowd suddenly parted, and Regina was escorted through them. She was wearing tattered gray clothes, rags that any prisoner might be given, her hair was tied simply at the nape of her neck, and her face was free of make-up. She looked as she had in the vision. It was simple, but it made her look a decade younger, nearly like she did when he'd first met her except for the fact that her hands were bound behind her back.

He glanced at Snow as she was ushered past the couple and observed that the Queen kept her face emotionless and cold as stone. That was a mistake on her part. The girl was never emotionless. The fact that she was pretending so hard not to care about all of this when he knew she did care was telling. The fact that David reached out and squeezed her hand and she still didn't respond was too.

When Regina reached the center of the courtyard, she was chained to a pole. As a line of guards armed with bows and an arrow each stood in front of her and prepared for execution, the Cricket jumped up into the air, flew over, and hovered in front of her. His voice was low, but he turned his head and used his magic to listen.

"Regina, this is your opportunity to meet your end with a clear conscience. Do you have any last words?"

"Yes. Yes, I do." As the bug flew back to his spot by the King and Queen, he lifted his head. Her tone was interesting, perhaps even frightening in a way. It was small and delicate, tearful almost. Regina was looking at her father, her face was calm and relaxed, but her eyes were still dark, suggesting something heavy lay beyond her face, something she wasn't sharing. Oh…the Queen was a weak one. She would be easily convinced to spare her life…perhaps that was how this would end. Or wouldn't end.

"I know I'm being judged for my past, a past where I've caused pain, a past where I've inflicted misery, a past where I've…even brought death. When I look back at everything I've done, I want you all to know what I feel. And that is…regret."

The Queen's face was softening. It was working. He was just about to believe that she might have bought her freedom when the darkness he saw in her eyes suddenly spread with fury into her face. Her nose wrinkled, the vein in her forehead popped, her skin grew red as she took her eyes off of her father and looked at her step-daughter.

"Regret that I was not able to cause more pain, inflict more misery, and bring about more death. And above all else, with every ounce of my being, I regret that I was not able to kill…Snow White!"

Stupid girl. He knew that she could have escaped this with her life if she hadn't done that, and yet he still found himself smiling. That was the kind of anger he needed for his Curse to work, the right kind of desire even, but between Regina and his curse, there was still a number of hurdles to jump. He had to get her to see beyond the pain of death, beyond just simple destruction, he had to get her free so her magic could come back, he had to protect her from David, who had risen out of his seat and cried "arrows!"

As the knights took arrows from their quivers and fit them into their bows, another guard stepped forward and tied a blindfold over Regina, something that wouldn't have stopped Zelena but would cripple Regina even if she did have magic…which he could feel she very obviously did not have.

"Take your aim."

Fuck. He was going to have to do something. Soon. Yet the feeling that all was well never truly passed. How long could he deny instinct? If those arrows flew-

"Fire!"

"Stop!"

It only took a second. No sooner had David given his command did Snow stand and give hers. Arrows were quick, they didn't need much longer than that, but fairy magic was quicker. The Blue Fairy stopped the arrows before they could pierce Regina's heart. They clattered to the ground at Regina's feet harmless as David reached for the Queen.

"Snow!"

"This is not the way," she insisted, pulling free from his grasp. She walked down the stairs. The crowd parted for her as she left the courtyard, leaving Regina and a very stunned crowd behind her.

David started to follow, he probably would have too, but soon enough leading overruled his instinct, and he looked at the guards and the people who were all looking to him for another order.

"Take her back to her cell."

Regina was led away, smiling a nasty grin, but David had already taken off after his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, nothing new here, except for Rumple's internal thoughts and struggles as he watches it all play out.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the last chapter! Rumple has a starring role in the next chapter as he steps forward to make all well between Regina and Snow. And by "all well," I mean he sends them into perpetual discord so that he can have his Curse cast. You know, the usual. Peace and Happy Reading!


	200. A Deal With the Queen

He didn't linger in the courtyard. He followed the Snow White through the castle, knowing that wherever she went, David was sure to come after her. He kept to the window ledges at the top of the high ceilings, watching her walk but staying out of her way so he wouldn't disturb her or let David know that he was there. Neither seemed to have noticed him at the execution. He wanted to keep it that way until he had reason to do otherwise. Soon enough, the second she pushed through the doors into the giant war room where they'd previously discussed Regina's fate, David called out to her.

"Snow, I thought we agreed what had to be done. Instead, you show the Queen mercy? She doesn't deserve it. You heard her. She's completely unrepentant."

"What I heard was a woman who didn't want to appear weak in her final moments," Snow argued.

"I've seen her kill, I've seen her terrorize, every moment I've seen of her, has been one of evil."

"Exactly!" Snow breathed, grasping his hands. "That _you've_ seen. But I knew her before. I knew her when she was good. She saved my life when I was a little girl."

"That was years ago."

"She changed before. Why can't she change back?"

"You can't be serious. You want to rehabilitate the Queen?"

"Maybe showing her mercy is the first step."

"But, if you fail, the entire safety of the kingdom is at stake! We cannot take that risk!"

"And you're so sure of her black soul?" Snow challenged. "Sure enough to kill? Because there's no going back from killing."

David paused. Ordinarily, he found the False Prince's morality naively innocent, but it did have its benefits, such as this. David might agree to kill Regina, but he wasn't going to be comfortable doing it unless he was sure, absolutely positive there was no chance she might change. His hesitation suggested he wasn't comfortable with it. He was refusing to give the final word, which meant that he wasn't sure it was a hopeless case. Uncertainty was written all over his face, but so was doubt.

"If you think this is the right thing to do, then it's what we shall do. But know that your path is one that we cannot come back from either," he finally whispered to her.

Snow nodded, her eyes went distant, and without warning, she walked away from him.

"Snow!"

"I'll think about it," she stated, turning around to face him. "Please, David, just a bit more time to weigh the options, and we'll have our answer by first light, I promise. If it's what's best…I won't interfere. I just have to know…"

David nodded. "Until morning then. Just…don't try anything without telling me. If something happened to you…it would be the end of me."

"I promise," she smiled. It must have been one hell of a smile because it gave David the reassurance to leave. He had to be honest; there were many times that he conceded that if he were in David's shoes and Belle in Snow's, he might have been swayed by her. But to leave her alone because of a smile when she so clearly wasn't thinking straight…he didn't know if he could ever have done that.

But Snow kept to her promise. He followed her about as she walked that day. She and David were both unsure, and that alone might be enough to save Regina, but he needed more than a smile to be assured that this would go the way he wanted it to. He needed more from all parties. He needed them not to kill her, better, and more unexplainable, he needed them to give her enough freedom to cast that Curse! The Curse was complex, it needed special ingredients to be cast. Once begun, it could be picked up again, but he knew the witch hadn't begun it before giving it over to Maleficent. She wasn't going to be able to create that Curse from her cell.

But it wasn't just Snow and David he needed compliance from. It was Regina. He needed her to stop trying to kill them and turn to the Curse as punishment! If they let her go now, she wouldn't do that. She'd go right back to trying to kill them just as any woman driven mad by revenge would.

But…what if he could kill two birds with one stone? What if he could guarantee she couldn't kill Snow White no matter how hard she tried and what if…what if he could reassure Snow and David it couldn't happen again either? That might be a useful solution to both these problems.

There was a spell, one that a previous Dark One had used over and over in order to prevent known threats from taking his dagger and killing him. The idiot had thought it would help him keep his curse and never once thought that the true danger would be from a friend. But, while the plan had failed, the spell itself was successful. Better yet, it was simple and adaptable.

Adaptable…he used magic to summon into his hands the blindfold he'd seen the guard place over Regina's eyes. He held it in his hands and examined it. Two strands of long black hair clung to it, and he smiled. Adaptable, indeed. And it might be enough to force both hands. All he needed was an opportune time.

It came when evening fell. Snow had kept to herself the rest of the day, walking and thinking, sitting and thinking, looking out windows and thinking! Finally, after sunset, she wandered out into the courtyard where the failed execution had taken place, her arms around her, hugging herself tightly as she walked and the distant look in her eyes said she was still thinking about it. There was no one else around, no David to argue with him, no guards spying, no cricket to play a conscious role…it was time to make arrangements. She put her arms down as she walked approached the pole Regina had been tied to. He took a seat in the chair with the blindfold still in his hand and after letting her stare at the pole for a second, he called out to her.

"My, my, aren't we troubled, dearie?"

"Rumpelstiltskin," she breathed without a hint of shock on her face. How very complimentary. "What brings you here?"

"You have to ask?" he questioned, rising to his feet. "I came to witness the Queen's execution. Even had my heart set on a wee souvenir. It's all very disappointing."

"I won't apologize for sparing her life. Not when there's a chance she might change."

He let out a bout of laughter he didn't even have to try and fake. The honest truth was that he was going to side with David for this one. Not only because it benefited him but because he had helped to create the monster Regina was. She wasn't redeemable, not at the moment, at least. He had memories, visions of her in the future, in another land, that suggested it might not be entirely impossible, but it would take quite a long time and more than a few hard lessons learned to get her there. Not to mention a very Dark Curse.

"Regina redeemed-what a novel thought. And, um…how do you plan to accomplish such an impressive feat?" he asked, standing before her and letting his fingers move over the blindfold.

Snow White opened her mouth to answer the question, but quickly closed her mouth and looked aside. "I don't even know if it's possible," she admitted sadly. "I'm probably just fooling myself."

"Maybe you need someone to show you that it is possible," he tempted.

"What do you mean?" Snow looked at him with suspicion. It was a look that he frequently saw on her face and a look he'd come to look forward to because he knew that it meant she was considering what he was proposing. She hadn't turned him down yet.

"Simple. I provide you with a test to help determine whether the Queen can truly change."

"Why would I trust you when I know you want the Queen dead? You never make a deal without a price."

He laughed again as he turned his back on her. When had he ever said he wanted Regina dead? "Maybe I just want her alive."

"That, I doubt."

"Question my motives all you like, dearie, but they shall remain mine. What is yours now," he stated, pointing at her and taking slow steps to where she was, "is opportunity. I can help you. Do we have a deal?"

"What do I have to do?" she questioned skeptically, or perhaps just intelligently. She had been burned by his deals before, even if he felt things had gone exactly the way they should have. Usually, he used that naivety on his clients to get them to take his deals. She wouldn't be falling for it again, not without details.

"Why, simply let your step-mother go, of course."

"Let her go…just like that?"

"Well, no, dearie, nothing is ever that simple. I would provide you with a spell, one that would protect you for say…twelve hours… using this!" he plucked a few strands of Regina's hair from the blindfold and then tossed the useless thing back to Snow. "It will give you immunity to death at the hands of Regina and Regina alone in this world and this world only. If she leaves you be, well, then I guess there is hope after all."

"If she doesn't…"

"I provide you with more of the protection potion…enough to last a few years."

And after those 'few years.'"

He laughed. It was his hope that after a few years they'd be in the Realm Without Magic, and it wouldn't matter, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

"After a few years, I suppose you'll have a choice to make. If she still carries a grudge and wishes you dead, you could execute her or come to me for more protection potion, but that's years down the line, dearie. For now…you only need to make one decision."

Snow shifted her weight and looked down at the blindfold in her hands, but he knew she wasn't really looking at it, she was thinking. She'd done enough of it today that he knew what it looked like.

"And this protection potion; it'll be enough to keep me alive, even if she were to try and kill me.

"She can try all she likes. Tis a spell that will mean she can never harm another hair on your head in this world, no matter how hard she tries. Stripped of her one purpose in life, who knows…she might find repentance."

"What do you want in return?"

_In his mind's eye, unbeknownst to her, he saw a dark cavern, David and Snow before him, walking away as he shouted at them, demanding something, an answer to a question. When they turned around, revealing a heavily pregnant Snow White, he had no doubt that the answer they would give was truthful…because they'd made a deal for it._

He smiled. He knew exactly what he needed. "For two protection spells?"

"Maybe just one," she corrected optimistically.

"Mmm, let's say two…my price is honesty."

"Honesty…"

"If ever there comes a day when I shall ask you a question, you shall answer it honestly. Won't matter how strange or intimate or odd it may seem, you'll give the truth. Are we in agreement? Your Majesty?"

He'd thrown the last words in for show but was pleased by the response he got. Instantly her back straightened, and her face took on one of nothing. She showed no emotions. She showed no partiality. She showed no like or dislike for him. It was nothing, the look of rulers with Kingdoms and people entrusted to them. It was enough to remind her of what was at stake, that they weren't discussing this for her alone or even for Regina alone but for an entire Kingdom. A Kingdom that would forever look at this problem with probing and judgmental eyes. How would she respond?

"Do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally two prompts, but as I wrote through the first one, I included the second, Snow talking to Rumple, as well. That scene is half and half. They showed us the first half of it, but I had to write in the last bit. I'm sort of okay with that because it allowed me to write the gem in at the end. Have you ever wondered why does Snow share Emma's name with Rumple? Sure, it could be the deal they made, but as we'll soon see part of the reason I'm assuming they keep him in that cavern is because magic is dampened (otherwise he could poof himself out if he wanted), which means they really don't have to share anything. I liked adding this extra little bit in here, this extra nudge to make Snow feel like she owes him a truthful answer at that moment.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the last chapter. I am curious how you'll feel about this, as I don't know if I love the way it came out in the end. Hopefully, poor writing won't take too much away from the story itself. And even if it does, hey, we're at a momentous chapter...in a way! Welcome to chapter 200! Yay! 200 chapters down and only 19 to go! Almost there! Peace and Happy Reading!


	201. Queen or Evil Queen

He did as he was told. He went straight away to his tower and summoned images of Snow and eventually David in his mirror. She told David right away, of course, just as he'd planned for, David's reaction was skeptical, but he didn't worry about that. He was focused on working his magic. He added ingredients carefully, following the instructions of the voice in his head of the former Dark One who had known it so well to begin with. He added the hairs and then pushed magic into the brew; strong, intense, unyielding magic. It had to be so. This spell had to be strong enough to show Regina there were no other options but that Curse. It had to be strong enough to protect Snow from arrows, daggers, ropes, poison, fires, bare hands, anything Regina might use to murder the poor girl. He couldn't risk it faltering and allowing her to actually kill Snow White.

In the wee hours of the morning, his potion was done. He separated it then. He put a single drop of the deep scarlet potion in one vial and added a mouthful of water to dilute it. That would protect Snow through her little "test." The rest of the mixture he added to another vial, highly concentrated, it would work here or any world with magic for years to come…thus why living in a world without magic would block it and, of course, by the time magic returned to that land...it would have worn off. But that little fact was for Regina to learn on her own, a piece of the puzzle he had to be sure she'd put together.

He handed both vials to the Queen that morning as David glared at him over her shoulder. "One for your test," he explained handing her the pink-tinged clear one, "and one for when it fails," he stated, handing her the scarlet one.

"If it fails."

He laughed and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Whatever."

"What happened to figuring things out on our own?" David asked.

"Don't be silly," he laughed away. "I'm happy to help! And with this potion, what more could you need me for? Enjoy the rest of your life, resting assured Regina shall never harm you again."

And then he disappeared, went back to his tower, and summoned an image of Regina in the mirror. The reflective surface wasn't in her cell, probably for safety reasons, but he still had a good sight of the tower and the room that she was sitting in. From the way she sat slumped by a table, her head occasionally nodding down to her chest, he imagined that she hadn't slept that night. He couldn't blame her. The night before an execution, he doubted anyone slept well. She found small idle tasks to keep her busy, and he rubbed his face in boredom, thinking of Bae and Belle, trying to keep himself interested as he wondered how long it would take the King and Queen to make their appearance. He was waiting, waiting for-

"Your Highness."

He glanced into his mirror and saw Snow White round the stairs and approach the cell. Regina sat at a little table, playing with a candle. She wasn't unaware of Snow's presence, but she wasn't exactly acknowledging her either.

"Leave us, please."

"But I have direct orders from the Prince-"

"And now, you have direct orders from me!" she stated, raising her voice at him in a commanding tone that gave him no choice but to back down and leave her alone. But she wasn't alone; they weren't alone. David hadn't been keen on the plan Snow presented him. He was lurking somewhere, just out of sight where Regina couldn't see. It was a true test because she didn't know what awaited her. Snow looked at the sleeve of her arm, and he saw a beautiful dagger slipped not so discreetly into her sleeve. It was useful for nothing. In an emergency, she wouldn't be able to pull it easily free and use it. But the Queen would.

"First, you stop my execution, and then, you defy your Prince to see me. Should I be worried there's trouble in paradise?" Regina questioned.

"I'm not here to talk about my fiancé."

"Then why are you here?" she asked, finally setting her candle aside and looking at her through the bars.

Snow White gazed back in silence, watching her with curiosity and pity before opening her mouth. "I know you weren't always like this, Regina. The woman who saved my life all those years ago…had good in her."

"That woman lost much," she stated with a roll of her eyes, "and now she's gone."

"Maybe. But as hard as you've tried to bury her, I think she's still inside you."

Regina smiled at the notion that even he found to be childish. "No, she's not."

But Snow smiled back with confidence. "All you need…" he watched as she walked over to the door of the cell and took a pair of keys that the guard at the base of the tower had given to her. Regina's smile vanished as she heard the noises of the lock clicking free. The door squealed as Snow opened it for her. "…is someone to help you let her out."

"What are you doing?" she growled with fearful distrust.

"I'm letting the woman who saved my life go. This is a chance to start fresh, Regina. To leave the evil behind in this cell."

Regina stared in shock as she rose to her feet and walked to the door, her smile growing with every step as though she could taste that there was trickery in the air.

"Just like that?" she questioned.

He let out a small snort of amusement as Snow answered, "just like that."

"She's not the one that makes deals, dearie. I am," he commented to himself as Regina floated out of her cell, walked a short distance, and then, seeing that they were truly alone…struck.

The girl had been grinning like a fool. It was a grin that a parent might have had as they watched their child take their first steps into the world, it suggested hope and new beginnings, a fresh start for a new life, but the second Regina looked over at her and saw it, she put her hand around the Snow's neck and slammed her against the wall.

"You make change sound so easy," she hissed as Snow choked. Oh, the protection spell she had given her assured that she wouldn't die, not from strangulation, but there was never any promise that her body wouldn't feel the effects. After years of honing her skill and learning to protect herself when her life was on the line, she reacted as any person would. She reached for the knife she'd hidden away in her sleeve, but Regina was quick to stop her from using it and take it from her.

"Did you really think this would protect you?" Regina taunted with a smile as Snow's struggle lessened. Ah, yes. Now that the surprise and the shock were over, she'd be remembering how safe she was. Too bad Regina didn't realize it as she eyed the dagger in her hand like it was a delectable sweet. "Since I can't use magic, I can think of no better way than to kill you with the blade you had meant for me. Goodbye, Snow White."

"No…" Snow warned, but Regina had already taken the blade stabbed her in the belly, making Snow let out a shriek. She'd heal. Her body would knit together quickly with that potion, too quickly for any damage to be done. In fact, it probably already was, but the pain she still would have felt. He absent-mindedly rubbed his leg, the one he constantly used magic for so that he'd never have to feel that pain. Wasn't magic wonderful.

"Yes…" Regina hissed as she watched Snow's face with determination. He'd been watching that woman pull hearts from chests ever since he'd first taught her. He knew what she was looking for now; it was death. She was waiting for the light in Snow's eyes to go out. What a shock for her to discover it didn't.

"No," Snow finally breathed, taking control of the pain and shaking her head. Regina removed the dagger from her step-daughter's side and stared down at it, mystified. It was clean.

"That's impossible!" she balked, dropping the knife to the ground and backing away from the woman.

"No, that's magic." There were footsteps on the stairs, and David, as well as several guards, entered the chamber.

"And this time, it wasn't thanks to fairies." He held up the blindfold that he'd taken the hairs from and showed it to her. "Rumpelstiltskin. He took one of your hairs from this and used it to fashion a protection spell," he explained.

"No…"

"Now there's nothing you can do in this land to hurt Snow or me. You're powerless against us."

That wasn't entirely true. That protection spell would only protect Snow White, not him. Unless, of course, they shared it, but he couldn't see her Charming make that sacrifice. But he supposed that David hadn't been there for the conversation that he'd had with Snow, so it was easy to see how he could mistake things. Or, of course, he knew it wouldn't, and he was bluffing. If it was a bluff, it was convincing. He'd said it easily enough to be believed.

Regina, on the other hand, was not taking the news easily. The poor girl hadn't looked so bad since Danial's resurrection had failed. "You tricked me," she cried.

"It wasn't a trick. It was a test–one that I had truly hoped you'd pass," Snow corrected.

"We wanted to give you a chance to change, Regina," David finished.

"Regina, you are banished," Snow pronounced officially and awkwardly in front of the guards. "Banished to live alone with your misery."

"As long as you're alive in this world, you can't hurt us," David repeated, again, a fact that wasn't strictly true, but he wouldn't tell.

Snow left David's side and strode over to her step-mother. She looked into her eyes, and Regina looked back, two women, not even a decade apart in age, two Queens by two very different circumstances, eye to eye, equals…it was chilling.

"You saved my life once," Snow stated, "and now I've saved yours. So we're even. And if you ever try to hurt anyone in my kingdom again, I will kill you." She turned her back then, and David gave the guards a signal to escort her down the stairs with them.

"Outside, your father is waiting to take you back to your castle. Keep it. Keep all you possess. But these Kingdoms are now one and under our rule. And if we ever see you again, we can't guarantee your fate will be the same as it is on this day. Go."

He watched as two guards roughly dragged the woman to the stairs and then down them, before practically shoving her in the carriage at the bottom. That had been foolish. The Queen was protected from Regina, but they weren't. Her magic wouldn't be gone long, and he did not doubt that Regina was going to push the Queen's threat of murder. He wouldn't want to give her easy targets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually got lucky on this one. There really was a mirror outside of the jail cell that I could let Rumple use, which was good because I felt that having him endure this scene without sound would be sort of anti-climactic. Of course, that being said, like the rest of this section, there is nothing here that you don't know. This one, thank goodness, I felt translated fairly well, at least.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the last chapter. Up next, we're diving into the first half of a different storyline. This is again one of those storylines that you might read and think it doesn't make sense where I've put it or how I've had to split it up, but I promise, after watching the entire series, this is really the only place it could be. Actually, for such a small, unimportant part of the show, the timeline for it had major implications, so the amount of time I spent on figuring out where these two halves needed to meet was ridiculous. Peace and Happy Reading!


	202. Consolation Prize

Finally, Snow and David were planning their wedding; their real wedding, he supposed. They'd been married in front of his mother before she died for well over a year, but they'd kept it secret. As far as the Kingdom was concerned, they were unmarried and frankly, as far as they were concerned as well since their marriage still one year later had not been consummated. He knew because he'd been watching for it. Ashamed as he was to admit it, he often summoned an image of Snow White, first thing in the morning before she could wake to see if she would wake alone. When he found her in a deep sleep, he checked on David to see if he was awake or unsettled, as if he'd just moved back to his own space. He never appeared alert, always in a dead sleep in his bedroom, comfortable in blankets that had been tossed about. Snug as bugs in rugs. Precious, but not helpful for his future. He'd spent time hoping that with time it might happen and that the future would finally start to rocket forward. Still, unfortunately, the pair seemed immovable on the idea of going to bed together or sneaking around. They spent nights together in the forest while they'd been battling, but they'd always been responsible and respectable. They always woke in each other's embrace, fully clothed, very virginal, and therefore without child. When he thought back to his own memories of his True Love, all the things he'd wanted to do with her even before he'd know what she was, he thought this pair showed remarkable restraint.

The two of them were going away again tonight, their first outing to a royal ball as a couple, diplomats, but he doubted anything would be different between them there. So far, nothing had worked to get them in bed together, so he had no reason to doubt that in a castle full of royals, anything else would work either. The problem, he deduced, was that the pair was never truly alone. Out in the woods, they'd always been with the dwarves or their army or Red. Now, Snow had a handmaiden named Charlotte, one who was far more interested in stitching up flesh on the battlefield that stitching up her mistresses gowns. If what he'd seen in the mirror was any indication, Snow wasn't so sure she needed a handmaiden, but the pair seemed to be friendly. She was always around Snow, last thing at night, first thing in the morning. And the knights…they hovered around David, who they called James, as if he was some kind of god. Even if the pair wanted to be alone and unseen for any kind of romantic gesture, it wasn't likely to happen. He was going to have to work on that, on arranging some kind of encouraging and romantic rendezvous where they could be alone for long enough to get their clothes off.

But that was a task for later. For tonight the Seer had something different to offer, a new plan that had him nearly excited as copulation between the King and Queen. Tonight was finally the night he got his wand and his son. Figuratively, of course. The Seer had urged him all day, told him to take his mother's wand, and go to a home located, coincidentally just outside of the palace were Snow and David were attending their first official ball as a couple. The moment he arrived on the roof of the home, he knew what was going on.

He'd seen the house he was at before, both in his crystal and in a vision. More importantly, as he stood on the roof looking down over the scene before him, he realized he'd seen the women before as well. One was stunning, dressed in gold, her skin glittering in the low light. She was holding a wand. And she was beautiful, nothing compared to Belle, but her skin was bright, her smile cheery. Next to her, she would have made any woman look bland, but the girl she stood before was already so wretched-looking it wasn't fair to compare. She was dressed in rags, and that wasn't an exaggeration. He noticed stitching on the grayish-brown dress that she wore that shouldn't have been there, as well as knots tied into the clothes. It was as if she'd used whatever she could get her hands on to create her clothing. She was pathetic, even for a servant girl; rags for clothes, cloth for shoes, golden hair tied back with scraps, and a dirty face…but it was that face that made him smile. It wasn't just dirty, that was ash on her face. _"A precious debt from a woman of ash will find the boy of fire…"_ A woman with ash smeared on her face and golden hair just like that. Cinderella. _"Ashley"_ the Seer whispered in his head, a meaningless word he wasn't bothered with. Not at a time like this. It may take him decades more to get back to his son, but this was the moment, the deal that would assure him he would get back to him. And with the Golden Fairy here, the one the Seer had told him to wait for before giving him a vision of her death on this night…he knew he'd be walking away with at least one prize tonight. And later, decades later, he'd have the greatest prize of them all. How a "debt from a woman" and a "boy to lead him" would work out in the end, he wasn't sure yet, the Seer hadn't confided that, but he had years to figure it out following this moment.

He was so excited he could barely contain himself. The wand he wanted and the favor he needed all in one…he didn't know why he ever bothered questioning the Seer.

"I'm your Fairy God-mother," the fairy stated. "And I'm here to change your life, Cinderella."

"But my Step-mother told me that I couldn't go. She forbade me to leave."

Step-mother? Go? Oh, now there was an unexpected bit of news. She wasn't a servant girl. She was the step-daughter. And go…to the ball perhaps?

Up on the hill in the distance, he could see fireworks. It was a ball that had been called for the Prince so that he might find a Princess. Every eligible girl was said to be there, along with royals from all over, including Snow and David. And she wanted to go…that was easy enough to arrange.

"Your Step-mother doesn't have this," the Fairy God-mother smiled, flourishing her wand for the girl. It was one of the six wands in his original vision, the last of the wands in his vision. "This wand has the power to take you to your ball, to your prince, and to-"

He'd heard enough. With a wave of the Black Fairy's Wand, the Golden Fairy was gone; rather impressively, he thought. It was difficult to kill a fairy. He couldn't do it with his magic alone, not without potions or spells. It had been at the Seer's pushing that he'd grabbed his mother's wand. Now he knew why. It was as if he'd set fire to her inside, and her body had combusted. There was smoke, and glitter, a gasp from dear "Cinderella" and the clatter of a strong glass wand hitting the cobbles. He stored his mother's wand in his jacket and pounced, using magic he appeared in the fairy's footsteps and knelt down to collect the wand.

"What…what did you do?" Cinderella questioned, looking him over with wide eyes. The poor girl had dropped her broom as she sped away. Now she was defenseless. Not that a broomstick would have been much defense against him, but she hadn't considered that. She was scared.

"Now, now," he smiled, trying to soothe and set her on edge at the same time. "I got what I wanted. There's no need to be frightened."

"No need?" she breathed so that it was barely a whisper. "You just killed my Fairy God-mother! She was trying to help me."

"Was she?" he questioned. Wand in his hand, he was already feeling triumphant, but he couldn't lose sight of what he had to do now. He had the wand, the fairy was dead, but there was still a deal to orchestrate. And for a "favor" he had to have her want it. Fortunately, in their brief encounter, the fairy had given him something to work with. "Do you know what this is?" he questioned in a sing-song voice.

The girl looked at it as though it was a juicy steak and she hadn't eaten in years. She looked at it as though it was salvation, and that was what he wanted.

"Pure magic," she smiled with a look of desire in her eyes.

"Pure evil," he corrected. "Trust me. I've done you a favor. All magic comes with a price. Go on back to your life, and thank your lucky stars you still got something to go back to."

"My life…" she breathed with a little sob, "it's wretched."

"Then change it. You can't handle this."

And then he turned, giving her the impression that he intended to leave when he was really just pulling her in further. He had to get her to be willing to give anything, and while he suspected that she was nearly already there, he didn't want to move too fast just because he was excited and wanted to. This deal was one of the most important he'd ever make. He had to make sure it was just right.

It went just as he wanted it to. Barely three steps away, and he heard footsteps behind him. "Wait. Please, wait! I can handle it. Please! I will do anything to get out of here. Anything!" she begged.

Beautiful.

"Anything?"

"Do you know how to use that wand, Mr…?"

"Rumpelstiltskin!" he proclaimed, sweeping into his bow. "And yes, of course, I do." He hadn't had much time on this one, but he'd discovered the trick for the few that he had. Other than his mother's wand, most fairy wands worked the same. He should be able to convince it to do his bidding.

"Then help me!" the girl pressed. She was trembling, and her hands were in fists at her side. It wasn't often he got to see physical symptoms of desperation, but she certainly had them all now.

"Well, if I do, and you can, indeed, shoulder the consequences…then you'll owe me a favor," he tempted, circling her.

"Name it. What do you want?!"

"Something…precious."

"I have nothing."

"Oh, but you will!" he piqued, seeing it in his mind's eye even as he spoke.

_He saw her in a beautiful dress of blue, hair curly and tied up off her neck, shoes made of glass, one of a kind. He saw her go to that ball. He saw her accidentally trod on the dress of Snow White before they had a conversation, and she noticed Thomas staring at her._

_"Do you think he'll be Charming?"_

_"That name's already taken."_

_Thomas and Cinderella would dance briefly, but just for long enough, just enough for her to fall head over heels in love with him and him with her. And then he'd leave her, he'd leave her for a moment, and her step-mother would find her, issue a cruel word that would send her running back to her home, leaving a shoe on the stairs. Thomas would return, find her gone, and her shoe, unique and one of a kind, laying on the stairs. At home, his spells would reverse, but the wands magic would force her to hide her dress and her shoe. Over the next two days, he would search for her until Snow stepped forward. She would track her, lead the prince to her where he would get down on one knee and propose. He saw fireworks over the palace just like there were today, only now the fireworks were for a wedding. And everyone, except for Prince Charming and Snow White it seemed, knew what came after the wedding..._

"With this wish, will come riches more than you know."

"I care nothing for riches. I'll give you anything you want. Just get me out of here!" So ready to volunteer "riches" that she assumed weren't even hers yet. That was what he wanted to hear.

"Now we're talking."

"Well, how does it work?"

"Fear not! My needs are small…and all you have to do is sign on the dotted line."

At the Seer's urging, he produced a contract and quill. It had been a while since he'd kept an actual written record. But she wanted it for this one. He'd explore why later, just as he'd explore how the boy and the woman would get him to Baelfire. "Do we have a deal?"

"Yes. Yes, thank you." She took the quill without question, and he turned and put the contract against his back so that she could sign it. As soon as he felt the scratches of the quill on the parchment stop, he felt the sealing of the deal, the promise of magic owed. He was bound to her, and she was bound to him…at least until she transferred that debt over to the Savior. One favor for another.

The contract signed, he pulled the memory of the visions the seer had given him into his mind and saw the girl in her pale blue dress once more with hair piled high and glass shoes. Something good. That was how fairy wands worked, with good intentions and motivations. He wanted her to go to that ball, to have her prince, to have a life that was better than what it was now. With that thought firmly planted in his mind, he waved the wand just so…and it was done. With a puff of magic, she was wearing that blue dress, her hair was styled just as he'd seen it, and beside her the glass shoes sat new and clean.

"Ta-dah!" he exclaimed as she beamed, looking over herself and…

"Glass?" she questioned, looking at the shoes.

"Every story needs a memorable detail," he dismissed. "Let's see how they fit, shall we?" She stepped into them without hesitation and grew a couple of inches. It was a good thing Prince Thomas was a tall man. He was bound to be fall in love with a girl like her; he'd seen the future to prove it. "Now, you have a good time. But be sure to watch the clock," he muttered as he waved his hand and used his own magic to make a pumpkin into a carriage and a few mice into some horses and footmen. As she left to find her future, he left with not one, but two prizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cinderella! At least the first part of her story. As you well know, her tale sort of gets complicated, not necessarily for Rumple or even the readers/watchers, but this was yet again another example of taking the story apart piece by piece and examining it carefully to find that it wasn't as simple as it appeared. Her tale has to be told in a couple of parts. This first one, easyish. The next one...that's where it gets a bit complicated.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, RolfB, for your comments! I'm thrilled you enjoyed 2x10 and it's conclusion! Isn't it so much better when Rumple is doing more than watching? I hope this chapter, for that reason, will also be a nice respite. Confession, I really hated this character. Not the story, just the character, just Cinderella/Ashley. I don't know if it was the actress or how she played her or the way she was written, but something about her just rubbed me the wrong way. Still, I tried my best not to get into too much of that and tell it like it was. We're starting to see the culmination of many things in this chapter; Cinderella, the wand, the favor...I know this entire fiction has been about setting up every fiction/season that's to come, but this is where it really starts to feel like it's leading into season one. It's exciting. Peace and Happy Reading!


	203. Disillusions of a Former Queen

Damn nobility and their noble intentions. Or perhaps he should damn the farm boy who respected such traditions of public love that kept him from sleeping with the Queen!

He tried to even the odds. After seeing Cinderella to the ball and taking his final wand home with him, he'd gone to great lengths to ensure when Snow and David finally set out to return they were stuck in the woods together, alone, on a chilly night, with several blankets and plenty of kindling for a fire. He'd practically spelled it out for them. Still, it hadn't worked. They'd made a fire and a shelter, then hunkered down and slept together but with hands in respectable positions and clothes securely fastened to the body. That night he'd surrendered to the fact that until they married in front of others, they would not consummate their marriage.

Wedding planning was good, as asinine as he thought it was, at least it excited him that they would finally be beyond silly human expectations. The biggest problem that faced them now was that Snow and David were not the only ones planning. Regina is up to something too.

After being exiled by Snow and David, she'd returned to her palace. She'd gathered together a few who were faithful and loyal to her, mostly members of her private guard who she'd always treated well. Her father had taken on the duties of running the household. How they managed to pay everyone eluded him, but that wasn't the part that he really cared about.

What he minded was the moment that he'd lost track of her. On the evening that he'd tried to get Snow and David together, Regina had mysteriously and without explanation vanished. He'd searched the realm for her but came up with nothing, not until morning when she reappeared and what he saw her doing…it made little sense to him.

He saw Regina chasing villagers out of a small town, all but one; one that she'd brought with her; one she talked to and seemed to know well. It was someone he'd never seen before.

After she finished burning the village to the ground, she talked to the man again, and he sat down against a wall as if he belonged there. He was tempted to follow Regina when she left, but instinct told him it wasn't her he needed to watch, but him. They were planning something, something she wasn't going to do but rather use him to do. So he kept his eyes on the man and the town, watched as he just sat there with his chin to his chest. He was pretty sure that he had fallen asleep at one point, but then, maybe a few hours later, Snow and David rode in and made contact with the stranger, after Charlotte saw to his hand, with an awkward pause between them if he'd ever seen one, they took him back to their palace. They gave him clothes and a bedroom and showed him the wine cellar. The entire time he kept glancing at Charlotte. And he kept talking about the attack on the town. But…

No, that wasn't right. He spoke of how Regina invaded, how she burned everything that he'd own, everything that he had! But he knew that wasn't true. He knew it because he'd seen her bring him with her. He hadn't lived there as he told the King and Queen. Why would he say he had? Unless he was a plant. Regina had left him there for a purpose, this purpose. She knew her step-daughter and the King well; she had to have known that she would take in a stray dog.

That evening, when they finally left him alone for a time, he snuck out of the palace. He wasn't surprised to see him ride a horse into Regina's palace grounds. Curious and unwilling to let her get her way by working around a loophole, he made himself invisible and appeared in her bedroom. He cocked his head to one side at the sight that met him.

Regina was in her room, but she wasn't lounging or reading or even having her way with the hunter she still kept in her possession. She was fighting—sword fighting. A member of her guard was facing off against her. Was…past tense, for no sooner had the stranger showed up did he watch her run him through, and the guard's heartbeat stopped. The guard died, fell to the floor in a heap with Regina grinning like a fool. The man, the fighting, the disappearance…what was she doing?

"Impressive, Your Majesty."

He looked up to see the stranger standing there in the entryway to her bedroom. He stood tall, properly. He was dressed well in the clothes that the King and Queen had given him, there was a scar over his eye, and now that he heard him speak, he had to admit that it was eloquent. Who had she hunted down? And for what purpose?

"Well, what can I say?" Regina smiled, running her fingers over her blade and smelling the blood of her guard. Sometimes he thought she grew crazier every day. "You inspired me. Perhaps you can give me a lesson. Or two."

So he was a swordsman. Not a Viner as he'd told the King and Queen. But with everyone in her private guard, what did she want with him?

"As much as I'd enjoy that, I can't be late for my first meal with Snow White and her prince," he reported with pride.

"So they believed you," Regina squealed, laughing in delight as she went to her vanity and fetched something from a small box. "I knew their insufferable kindness would be their downfall." In her hands was a vial, small and dark blue. She worked her way slowly across the room, maintaining her eye contact before giving it to him. "Venom of the Agrabahn viper. A bitter draft...slow and painful."

Fuck.

So that was her play. She could no longer touch the King and Queen, so she was going to use a third party to do it instead of just getting the Curse that he'd already gotten to her. Foolish little girl, how many times did he have to go through this with her?! He was so angry he was ready to reveal himself, to use his magic to fling the man across his room and out the window, so he cracked his head on something hard, and Regina could no longer use him. But one look at the Count told him he didn't have to, not yet. He was timid, eying the vial she'd placed in his hands questionably.

"Is there a problem, Count?" Count. Not an ordinary man, but a Count. That explained the accent and how he spoke so well, but it didn't explain who he was or where he was from.

"What did they do to deserve this?" the Count asked. "They've shown me nothing but kindness."

"Don't tell me you're starting to grow a conscience."

"Call it professional curiosity."

Regina sighed with irritation. "Well, what they did doesn't matter. Only one thing should be on your mind right now...how badly you want your revenge," when she turned, he saw a small piece of paper rolled up in her hand. The Count's eyes narrowed at that paper and then widened with desire. Suddenly his demeanor changed, and without further question or even finishing their conversation, he turned and left.

Regina laughed. "I thought so," she snarled, clearly celebrating her victory, but he had already put enough together to want nothing of her celebration. The Count, whoever he was, wherever he was from, was here to do her dirty work. Revenge motivated him. He'd made a deal with her to get that piece of paper. Whatever it held was probably related to his revenge, perhaps a name or location.

 _"Names…"_ the Seer whispered helpfully in his head. That was something to know, but it didn't help him now. Only Regina could do that. Not a poor deal, not another who was good with a sword, it had to be Regina! Why did he have to keep going over this?!

"Well, this is very disappointing," he drawled, letting his invisibility spell vanish so she could see him appear. Foolish child had been too busy fighting when he'd arrived to notice the extra magic in the room; that was a mistake her mother and sister wouldn't have made. Sometimes it surprised him how far she had come while standing still. "I mean…I didn't spend years training you so you could spend your days fencing and get someone else to do your dirty work."

"Oh, you know exactly why I'm doing this," Regina said, turning back around to face him. "You put a spell on Snow and Charming so I can't hurt them." Technically it was only on Snow, but he was content to let her think that for the moment until the pair were married and pregnant. After that, she could do whatever she wanted with David so long as the child and Snow were fine…until they wouldn't be.

"Yeah. And then I gave you the Dark Curse so you could take them somewhere where you can," he pointed out.

"I don't care. I'm going to get what I want, and I'll get it without you!" she snapped so quickly he wasn't even sure she'd heard the lifeline he'd just offered. The childish fool didn't need a road map. She just needed to shut up long enough to listen to his suggestions.

"Oh! Are you sure about that?" he questioned, taking another step closer to her. She smelled strange. Her magic smelled…different. Why did it smell so…alluring? And familiar at the same time…

"If you think you can stop the Count, think again."

"Is that a threat?"

She made a sound of confirmation, but he barely heard because she'd turned in just such a way that he'd caught another whiff. He knew that smell. It meant something. It was important to all of this. What was it? What was he missing?

"It's a fact." She stuttered as he moved in closer, put his nose nearly up against her flesh, and inhaled the familiar scent hoping to give himself a hint. Yes, familiar, but not a scent that he'd ever smelled on her. Something he'd smelled somewhere else; on something else. Who? Where did he know it from? "That protection spell you put on the Charmings…" He backed away as her tone suggested menace. "I put the same enchantment on the Count to protect him from you."

Now that had him draw a breath and take a few steps back as she chuckled. Was that true?

"Looks like the student has finally outgrown the teacher," she laughed gaily before puckering her lips in a mock kiss.

He knew what he wanted to do to those lips, to the smirk he saw on them. He'd be happy to wipe both off her face. If she knew what he'd been through, the lengths that he'd gone to so that everything would run smoothly up to this point…she'd understand that no one, not even Merlin, would ever surpass him. If he had to force her to see that the hard way, then so be it.

"We'll see about that, dearie," he threatened before waving his arm and vanishing from her sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated this entire episode. It was just so...pointless. By season six, OUAT was having a hard time keeping their story straight and precise as it was, and then they threw this in there, and not only was the entire thing useless, but it was also contradictory. They introduced new characters we'd never see again; sure, they put that little bit of Rumple "sensually" smelling Regina in there, I suppose, to make it seem like they could have an attraction to each other (though I used it for something else here, allowing it to be interpreted one way by Regina while it meant something different to Rumple; points if you know what he's smelling), but the true "problem" comes in two little lines! "You took away my ability to kill them." "Sure did, but then I gave you the Curse so you could." And I just...couldn't. Because for all their touting, saying they are keeping track of the timeline, there is no way for that to work. No possible way. We know that Rumple protected them after the war, clearly. And like I said chapters ago, while we might never have seen the scene where Rumple gives the Curse to Regina, we know that she exchanges it for the Sleeping Curse she puts on Snow, which is before the war. So really, I did my best with those statements, truly I did, but at the same time, I know that it's an error on the show. It's correct in my timeline, and that's all that really matters to me.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the last chapter. Good to know I'd shocked some of you by heading to Cinderella. Trust me, we are not done with her yet, but this was the best place to put this episode, odd and problematic as it was. But hey, I hope I gave you a laugh at the beginning. So many are enjoying the fact that right now, Rumple is the biggest Snowing shipper just sitting around waiting for them to have sex. I like that he tried to arrange it for them, but in my mind...yeah, they're just too precious to follow through. Not to mention we sort of know from 3x10 that they do wait until after their wedding. Up next, we'll wrap up this epic failure of an episode and move on in the story! Peace and Happy Reading.


	204. Love that Counts

It was only back at his tower that he recognized the smell on Regina and where he had smelled it before. It was the smell Jefferson reeked of. It was the same smell that came from every object in the bag that Jefferson had left him. Suddenly it was all clear. Last he'd checked, the Enchanted Forest didn't have any Counts, certainly none that wanted revenge. Somehow, that little witch had gotten Jefferson to take her to another world and plucked the Count out of obscurity to come here and do her bidding. Jefferson had helped _her_?!

He sneered as he approached his cauldron and summoned an image of Jefferson, set on going to him and questioning him over this nonsense, but-

Odd. No picture formed in the cauldron.

He moved to the mirror and waved his hand over it, using the reflective surfaces he knew of in Jefferson's home to see into it. The magic worked this time, and there it was, the little cottage that he was raising his daughter in, the same one he'd gone to when he'd sworn never to use magic again.

It was empty inside. No Jefferson, no Grace, and a layer of dust on every surface, suggesting no one had been there for some time.

He glanced back over at the cauldron, suddenly suspicious of its inability to pull from it an image of Jefferson, then back to the mirror and into the home where Jefferson wasn't. Something felt wrong. Sometimes, if there was an enchantment, a person could hide from such things as the cauldron, just as the Apprentice had. Perhaps that was the deal that Jefferson had struck with Regina, that she would hide Jefferson and the girl from him if he took her to the other world. That was one theory. There was a way to test it.

He reached for the crystal ball, the very one that Jefferson had brought him back in order to see around those kinds of enchantments. He sought to summon an image of Jefferson and his daughter in the crystal, expecting to see them living a rich life in a lavish palace or perhaps protected from him in a new cabin. Instead, the girl appeared, a stuffed bunny in her hands as she tugged at the sleeve of an unknown man. She wiped a tear from her eye when a woman appeared and knelt in front of her before pulling her into her arms and hugging her—no sign of Jefferson.

That was odd. Very odd. Perhaps, if Regina had arranged some kind of deal with him, he was in another realm somewhere, searching for something or completing the transaction? Doing work for Regina...but, not for him...

With an angry wave of his hand, he dismissed the image of Grace. What did it matter where Jefferson was. Something was going on, the Former Queen had Jefferson's magic on her, and somehow she was responsible for the Count being here in this world trying to kill Snow White. He wanted to speak to Jefferson, wanted to get details from the man, and throttle him for turning to Regina but not him after he'd vowed never to do so again, and he'd kept his promise to leave him alone, but harsh words could wait. Snow and the Count could not.

Regina claimed that she'd cast a protection spell over the Count to prevent him from harming the man. It could be a lie. That was an interesting piece of magic, and he didn't know where she would have gotten hair or blood or skin or anything else that would have told the spell who to protect him from. She could have been bluffing. He wouldn't have smelled the lie on top of the smell of realm travel, but…perhaps he didn't need to test it in that way.

The Count had already seemed unhappy with going after "the Charmings" as Regina had put it. He was motivated by revenge of some kind. Naturally, Regina would have hired someone who wanted revenge, thinking it was powerful enough a motivator, but there was another feeling stronger than revenge. Love…

And as David existed as a loophole for Regina, something she hadn't yet figured out…perhaps there was one for the Count as well that Regina hadn't planned for.

Setting it up was easy. As the Count rode back to the castle, he used magic to write a letter in the hand of one of Charlotte's sisters, informing her that her mother was sick and she had to come home to help care for her at first light because no one else had the skills she did. He knew that Charlotte would eat that up. Her family wanted her to be a handmaiden, not a doctor. They'd rejected any kind of interest she ever had in medicine. For them to write her and tell her they needed her skills, well…he knew that she'd be insistent they let her go. He had Pirithous deliver the letter. He knew the Charmings. He knew they'd insist she go in the morning, they'd probably send her off with a carriage and gifts too, but not before they invited her to dinner.

As he waited for the time to be right, he summoned from the bag of items that Jefferson had given him a key. It smelled like Regina and Jefferson, but the key was unlike the other items in the bag. He didn't even know if Jefferson knew what he had when he'd given this to him. It wasn't a portal that would work once to take an individual to the room of doors, but rather a magical object that he'd figured out early on could be used to open a door to a very special place, a very special world…one where dear Charlotte could be saved from what was about to afflict her. He'd already used the key once for Dr. Jekyll. Perhaps, if this played out the way he thought it would, the pair of them could pass on his compliments.

His suspicions were confirmed when he spied on the Charmings through a mirror. At the Seer's assurance, he stayed where he was in his tower and watched as the Count poured the venom into the crystal pitcher of wine. He poured it for David and Snow that evening, only to be stopped dead in his tracks when he was told another guest was coming to dine. None other than Charlotte. Snow explained that her family was in need of her, and she would be leaving in the morning. Together they were celebrating for her last night. The Count, Edmund, according to Charlotte, had hesitated before offering her wine from the pitcher. When questioned about it, he'd answered that it was her eyes "again" that had stopped her. Snow White smirked, seeing the same thing he had seen. He eventually poured her a glass, but before anyone could drink, he stopped them all, claiming that he had another bottle in the cellar he wanted to share with them. Charlotte's glass was the first one that he took.

Love…he could work with love.

As Count Edmund stormed away to fetch the mythical bottle of wine, he waited. After dinner, when Charlotte had excused herself to pack, the Count retreated, looking terribly torn apart by the fact that she'd soon be leaving. In the palace cellar, he sat atop a barrel of something waiting for his moment when the Count appeared. The Poor Man didn't notice him, merely slammed the pitcher down on the table so hard he was shocked it hadn't broken. He wasn't surprised to see him with the pitcher of wine; he'd barely let it leave his sight since he'd introduced the potion to it, eliminating any chance that someone might accidentally take a sip. He took the vial that held the poison from his pocket and looked it over—sentiment and love…his two favorite materials to work with.

"Having second thoughts?"

The Count startled when he saw him and moved to pull his sword, but just as it was drawn, he'd summoned it into his hand. When the Count stopped his advance and looked properly shaken, he dropped it.

"No need for that, dearie. Tell me...why didn't you poison Snow White and Prince Charming?"

The Count swallowed nervously. "I was prepared to poison them, but...I saw Charlotte, and she reminded me of..."

The Seer blessed him with an image of the girl, of Charlotte.

_He saw her face clearly, but before his eyes, he watched as her face morphed, the bones changed, all but the eyes. The eyed stayed the same on her, the one trait he'd been confounded by. How interesting. He saw the pair in a field, laughing. He saw them at a river, her reading poetry in a familiar language as he ate grapes in a sickening idyllic scene, the pair of them kissing in what appeared to be a dark barn and then…a coffin. Dressed in black, he stood beside her coffin. Her eyes were closed. And then the girl morphed and changed again, back into the figure of Charlotte; every detail was different, except for the eyes. The eyes remained the same. Closed, as venom from the Agrabah Viper claimed her body._

When the Seer brought him out of the past and the future, the Count was still stuttering. He might have been too if he hadn't gotten over such things years ago.

"Your fiancée?" he guessed. The Count's eyes and silence answered for him. "Yeah, yeah, I-I-I can see that. I mean, before she became a rotting corpse. Your love and-and the handmaiden share the same _je ne sais quoi, n'est-ce pas_?" he taunted, using the language he'd seen in the book. The Count did not appear impressed.

"She didn't deserve to die," he argued. "And if I had killed her just to get my revenge, I'd be no better than my enemies."

"Yes, yes, but...but Snow White and Prince Charmy-warmy, you gonna try again?"

The Count paused, then, slowly, his eyes began to fill with tears before he finally shook his head. "No," he whispered. "They don't deserve to die either."

Well, that was refreshing to hear, but unfortunately, he'd seen that look of resistance before, when he'd been visiting Regina. All it had taken was one promise of revenge to get him to do what she'd wanted. He needed more than just words. He needed the Count gone, and he needed Regina to learn…there was no fighting him.

"Hm..." he snapped his fingers and summoned Charlotte's body, unconscious with a bit of his magic, into the room with them, hiding her behind another barrel for the time being so that he could explain. The sudden thud on the floor did not go unnoticed by the Count. Did they have magic in whatever world he'd come from? Did it really matter?

"What was that?"

"My insurance policy," he explained, taking the long way around the table as he summoned the last dregs of the poison from the bottle and used his magic to place them on dear Charlotte's tongue…that should do.

"Let's just say in order for my plan to work, I need Prince Charming and Snow White very much alive and procreating. Sorry for bluntness, but I need what I need. So that means I must make sure that you're never tempted to kill them ever again. Boop!"

He used his magic to make a noise in the place that Charlotte was hidden. Predictably the boy turned his back, went to investigate the spot, and gasped as he knelt by her side.

"Charlotte?" he laughed as he examined her. What he'd find was the black poison of the viper already doing its damage. It was a quick poison when it wasn't diluted. A full bite could take a few seconds, but with what she'd had, it might take up to five minutes. They had some time, but not a lot.

"Why?" he roared. "If you didn't want me to kill them, kill me, not her!"

"Would that I could, dearie," he muttered, rounding the table once again. "Where's the antidote?!" the Count demanded, getting to his feet and storming after him.

"Antidote?" he laughed. "There isn't any. There's no cure for this poison."

"No, no, no," he cried, returning to her side in a panic. Oh, he did have a sense of morality this one. That was good. He might not be in love with her, not yet, but he'd take his deal just to keep her alive. He felt responsible. He could work with that just as he could love.

"But it can be stopped," he countered, removing the key from a pocket and showing him.

"A key?"

"This isn't any old key," he explained. "This is the key to the land where all stories come to a screeching halt! Including Charlotte's story…you know the one...where the poison reaches her heart!" he used his hand to mime poison flowing through her veins and strangling her, but the Count once more was not amused. Instead, he looked from him to Charlotte and then back at the key.

"I go through there, she lives?"

"Indeed!" he squealed. "As long as you remain there. If you should ever leave, her story and the poison shall r-r-resume. And I hate to spoil the ending," he whispered, recalling the image of Charlotte dead from the poison. That was decades down the road, long after the Curse was broken…what did he care. "But it's really quite tragic…"

Again the Count stared at the key in his hand, he looked at the door behind him, but finally nodded. By the look of Charlotte, it was none too soon.

"Then it's settled!" he proclaimed, turning to collect the girl. He turned his back and used the magic of the key to open the door behind him, not into the wine racks but into another world, one he would not be going to. The Count said not a word as he hoisted Charlotte into his arms and stepped through the portal with her. He laughed when it closed, and the smell Jefferson had on him permeated the room. He couldn't wait for Regina to learn how she'd failed so miserably. Student surpass the teacher…there couldn't only ever be one Dark One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to reiterate again that I did my best on this episode and these chapters. I feel like the shoddy writing was really evident in this scene, especially. It felt like they took shortcuts Rumple probably wouldn't have taken and just left a lot of it up to the old "well, we can explain it with magic" excuse. I feel for that excuse, and I've used it myself several times, but this scene seemed to rely on it a bit much for my taste. But hey, it's over, it's done, 6x02 is now in the past, and I'm really excited about the next chapter. Even if you know what scene is next, there is a conversation that happens in front of it, one that I hadn't realized had to take place until I watched the "seen scene," that I'm rather fond of. I don't know how you'll feel about it ultimately, but I know that I enjoyed writing it. There is something about it that puts a smile on my face. I'm very excited to show it to you.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the last chapter. Props for any who realized that what Rumple was smelling on Regina in the last chapter was Jefferson. Well, Jefferson's magic at least. I did that to give you a bit of an idea as to where we are timeline wise for everyone else. This story follows Rumple, but there's a lot going on that he doesn't worry about or see because it's not really pertinent to his goal. The idea that Cora came back from Wonderland snatched Henry, and Regina took Jefferson and left him in Wonderland to get dear ole Daddy back...that's one of those things we don't see. But by doing this it allowed me to give Rumple a hint to check in on Jefferson and then excuse him from caring further when he assumes that Jefferson is "working for Regina". We're getting close to the end everyone! Only five more chapters left in the Snow White and Prince Charming Section then we'll be moving on to the next and last section in this fiction! I won't say that the last section is super amazing and awesome, but I like it more than this one. Rumple sort of becomes the central character again (in his own story, shocker), and I think you will like what I do with some of the more boring parts of sitting in prison. So, if these last few chapters start making you a bit bored in this section, when Snowing starts to do some things they probably shouldn't, know that we are almost through with it. Peace and Happy Reading!


	205. A Father's Love

Regina was a tricky little devil. He was partly to blame for that, but he wasn't willing to excuse the fact that Cora was her mother or that she'd been brought up as a spoiled little girl by her father either. When he'd first met her, she'd been innocent and naïve. Now that she knew what the world around her was capable of, he knew there were times to excuse himself from her presence. After the fiasco with Count Edmund, for example, he found himself purposefully staying away from her to the extent that when she'd come to his castle one night, screaming his name, demanding to know what he'd done, he'd made himself invisible and stood in a corner, tolerating her destruction of his things, knowing full well that the important things were safe from her. It wasn't that he was scared of her, not by a long shot; no, he had more power than Regina ever would. But he recognized that from now on, he had a tricky role to play in her life. After what happened with the Count and Charlotte, he had appeared before her as an enemy, but he was ever aware that there was time she would need him to be her mentor, still, and other times that she'd need him to be her friend. He'd hidden from her that day because he knew that if she found him, that might be the end of it. When the Count hadn't shown up, and Snow and David continued to live, it hadn't taken her much to put two and two together, and she was so furious that if she got her hands on him, she would have severed their bond so that he would never have been able to appear before her as a friend again. By hiding and letting her take out her anger on his objects, he allowed her to vent her rage towards him at having failed, then go home to wallow in her despair, a place that he would still be able to reach her.

Soon enough, he'd sensed, probably from the Seer, she would let him into her world again. This time when he explained the loophole to the protection spell he'd placed on the Charmings, she would be receptive. She would listen. And the divide would be crossed once more. So he kept up his watching, kept himself fully tuned into the future in his head, and waited to be called to go to her. But he didn't expect it would happen as it had.

In the early morning on the day Snow and David were to be married, he received a summons, one he probably would have answered out of boredom even if the Seer hadn't pressed him to go, but it hadn't led him to Regina, at least not directly. Instead, it took him out into the courtyard where the former queen kept her apple tree, to a man he'd seen several times in his life, who practically had haunted him, and yet he'd never had a conversation with.

Henry.

Cora's husband.

Regina's father.

He wasn't ashamed of his past. He simply preferred not to acknowledge it. Everything he'd ever done, good or bad, was to get back to Baelfire. If he let himself wander too far from that truth, his past sins might kill him. But Henry…

Henry always made him uncomfortable. The idea of talking with him now, standing before him as he was, made his heart race, and he struggled to keep the mask of the Dark One in place before him. Sometimes he thought it might have been the old man's age. He'd already been well over one hundred by the time he'd pursued Cora, and he hardly ever felt his age or even felt like all those years had gone by as they had, but when he looked at Henry, he felt like he could feel every last year he'd ever lived. He was white-haired and wrinkled, a far cry from the handsome young Prince he'd once been in so many ways. When he looked at Henry, he felt like he should have been food for the worms, old and buried by now with his son next to him as his grandchildren brought them flowers for their graves. He'd tried, ever since his indiscretion with Cora, never to pay Henry much attention for that reason. Why he'd summoned him for a face to face meeting now, after all these years…it was a mystery to him.

"You?" he laughed, trying to pretend like he didn't care. "Well, there must be a mistake. Surely you wouldn't summon me. Your daughter could give you all you want!"

"It's not about what I want; it's about what she wants. What can you do for her?"

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Regina!" he stressed, stepping closer to him. There was an old weathered piece of paper in his hands. He kept running his fingers over it, pinching and releasing it, changing his grip on it over and over, nervously. What was it? "I know I don't look like much, but I'm smarter than I appear. I know about you and Cora, just as I know you've taught Regina to be as her mother," he admitted extending his hand so that he might take the paper.

Damn it. It was a letter, one that he'd written to Cora long ago. It had started with "My Love." He regretted those words now. Looking at them made him sick, especially when he thought of what he still felt for Belle. How could he ever have confused what he felt for Cora as love?

"I don't care who you've taught her to be. All I want is my daughter's happiness, for her to live in peace. If you can do something to help her, I'll gladly pay the price."

He believed that. Truly he did. But this wasn't something that involved him. At least not until it came time to cast the Curse.

"I've already done something to help her," he explained, folding the paper and sticking it into his pocket. "She wouldn't take my help."

"Then convince her!" Henry begged. "I fear for her if she doesn't find help. Cora belonged to you, no matter what she said-"

"-Cora belonged to her magic-"

"-but Regina is all I've ever had in this world," he stated, ignoring his correction. "She's all I ever wanted and all I've ever had to be proud of. I can't stand to see her in this state."

He smiled and took a step closer to dear Henry. It was ironic. He couldn't stand to see his daughter in this state. He didn't have much of a choice. If his vision of the future was right, his sacrifice was going to be what it took to get her out of this state.

"And…you would be willing to…die for her...if that were the cost of her happiness?"

Henry's eyes went wide as dinner plates, and he flinched, considering his words and what he'd just said. If he truly was smarter than he appeared, he would know what those words meant. But would he be willing?

Henry nodded. "If that is the cost," he vowed.

Poor old man.

He laughed and tapped his fingers together. "Well then…let's go see, Regina!" he declared.

With another nod, Henry turned to lead him to wherever Regina was.

Oh, he could see what he meant. When Henry walked into her chamber and proclaimed, "You have a visitor," he made quick work of the situation and appeared behind her so that by the time Regina snapped "who?" and her father turned to usher him in, he was already there, watching Regina stare into her mirror.

"You need to ask?" he questioned, drawing her attention away from the mirror. His appearance didn't change her mood, not that he'd really expected it to. It was a perfectly lovely day for a wedding. He doubted that she'd see it that way. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea. There was, after all, one little thing in his plan he didn't always account for. Whats and whos and whys were important, of course, but when manipulating a situation, when trying to force the hand of someone who didn't want to be forced, whens could also have their own power. "What other friends do you have, dearie?"

"You're no friend," Regina snarled as her father made his way out of the room. "Have you come to relish my suffering?"

"I thought you'd want someone to help raise your spirits. Especially on a day like today!"

"What's so special about today?" she questioned as he got to his feet. He beamed…as if she had no idea.

"Snow White and Prince Charming's wedding, of course. Didn't you get an invitation? Me neither." Which was sorely unfair considering how much of a hand he'd had in their union. He'd go so far as to say that without him, none of this would be happening. Such gratitude… "Still, nice to be able to see them declare their twoo love in front of their entire kingdom. A happy ending after all."

"And, because of you, there's nothing I can do to stop it," she spat back at him before heading to her vanity. "'No way to harm them in this land ever again!'"

He fought an urge to roll his eyes. She thought she was so brilliant, and yet she hadn't figured out the biggest loophole of all, the only chance that she had for revenge. She just had to be humble enough to follow the plot that he'd laid for her.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose that's true…in this land," he said carefully, emphasizing the last bit so that she would hear a hint of hope in his voice. He'd told her this before, he'd told her about taking them elsewhere…but she'd been stubborn then, filled with hope that the Count could do what she could not. He hoped she just needed reminding.

It worked. The Evil Queen stopped where she was and turned. "What?"

"The deal I made was explicit. You can never harm them in 'this' land. Now, were you to bring them to another land…well…" he smiled at her and watched as understanding finally perked her up. Her chin raised, she smiled, and a spark of light lit up the black behind her eyes. Amazing what the brain could forget when revenge ran wild, amazing how just one little reminder could bring it all back.

"Told you I was your friend," he muttered before disappearing. He had a wedding to watch after all…and Regina had a curse to usher in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Rumple and Regina before the Snowing wedding. This chapter seemed really straightforward when I prompted it. And then I watched it and realized something...there was a small minor little detail in the actual scene that has some big implications, and I wasn't about to let that go. The detail? Regina's father announces Rumple's arrival. Yep, that bit is part of the actual scene. Unlike the other times when Rumple just sort of appears in the room with Regina, Henry tells her, "you've got a visitor." And when Rumple appears, he doesn't exactly appear surprised that it's him. To me, that meant that Rumple and Henry had to have at least talked. What's so special about that? This is the first and only time Rumple and Henry have or will talk in this fiction. During Regina's life, all through Cora, and when they were training, he's always tried to avoid him, and now here they are face to face. It's a little thing, but I had to write it in.
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments on the last chapter, RolfB. I really appreciate that! I hope you'll appreciate the conversation added to this chapter and won't see it as too presumptive. Henry is an interesting character to me. He bothers me sometimes because I think he lets Cora and Regina get away with a lot of what they do, but at the same time, I feel sorry for him. I think at the heart of it, he is a good man who loves his family probably more than they love him, and I think that he knows he's powerless against them. I did enjoy using a letter, though, to let him show his hand, to reveal that he's not stupid. He knew Cora had other relationships. He just continued to love his family. I'm really excited to hear what ya'll think of this! And, of course, if this is the morning of the wedding, then you must know what comes next! Peace and Happy Reading!


	206. Wedding of the Century

He knew that people were calling it the "Wedding of the Century." He was no expert on weddings, barely remembering his own, but as someone who had lived for well over a century and a half, he expected that it was a fair assessment.

It was a simple but still grand affair. The pair were to be married in a round room in the palace, the base of one of the towers in King George's Palace, the place they had chosen to inhabit permanently. The windows were stained glass and had recently been cleaned to let an optimum amount of light in at sunset, no less, creating a colorful scene, but not one that would detract from the bride and groom. A platform from an old well had been salvaged for this wedding, salvaged and restored so they could marry upon it. The well had not been saved, obviously, but at least it carried on the dreadful tradition of marrying in front of a well in some way. Simple but grand. However, he knew that it wasn't the grandeur that made people say it was the Wedding of the Century; it was the people. It wasn't just the fact that the King and Queen, those who had fallen so hard at the cost of their parents and risen back to greatness, were the bride and groom. It was the guest list.

While a royal wedding was a glittering affair for royals from afar, Snow and David had invited only a few royals, and even fewer came-Cinderella and her finace, Thomas, were somewhere in the crowd. But having no real family by blood and having made few alliances with other royals, they had chosen to invite the people. The dwarves, Granny, and Red were all there, but they were there right along with farriers, shop keepers, knights, traders, bakers, soldiers, mothers, fathers, children. It seemed like everyone in the Kingdom had turned out for them. Wedding of the Century…to him, it seemed more like it was the Wedding of a Lifetime. He couldn't be sure when another one like this would come along.

There were no seats for their guests. Instead, everyone stood around the room, jostling for a better angle or closer spot before the doors opened, the humming in the room died down, and David, or Prince James as they still knew him, appeared. He was dashing dressed in fine clothes of silver and gray. His sword was belted gallantly at his waist. Together, along with the priest, he walked from the door to the canopy of the old well, the crowd parting for him to make a perfect aisle.

As their attention was consumed he considered, again, going in person instead of just watching through mirrors and reflections, but concluded, again, that it would be too dangerous. Crowded as it was, even if he made himself invisible there would be no good place to stand that someone wouldn't realize there was someone there. No, the best view he could get was from his mirror.

And what a view it was.

David and the Holy Man in place, the doors opened again to reveal Snow White and the seven dwarves. She was a sight, even he had to admit that. Her gown was perfectly and blindingly white, the skirts made of goose feathers perhaps. Like the rest of the wedding, it followed a familiar pattern: simple but still grand. White gloves adorned her arms, and a large necklace sat upon her chest. Large, but plain enough that it didn't take away from the Princess. Her hair was done, set high on her head with freshly plucked flowers throughout. He could tell from the ripple of gasps and awes that went through the room that she did take people's breath away.

For a moment, as the dwarves walked her down the aisle to her prince, he allowed himself to conjure up the fantasy that he'd had in his head of his Belle dressed in all white. Next to that…Snow almost took his breath away. He placed his hand over his chest and tried to ease the pang he felt there. From thinking of Belle or from the blackening of his heart? He tried not to think about it.

"Who gives this woman to be married?" the Holy Man asked.

"I do," Snow answered. "I give myself."

The poor priest looked taken by her answer, but said nothing as she turned and kissed each of the dwarves on the cheek, one of them twice, before mounting the stairs and taking David's hands.

The Holy Man didn't waste time. He began by calling all of the room to order and informing them that they were there to bear witness to the unity of two people and two Kingdoms, bound by one love. There were no flowers as there had been the first time, no drinking out of a cup or vows; instead, he made a speech about how marriage was a blessed thing born out of love, and blah, blah, blah, blah…

He nearly gagged. He'd had marriage once, and he knew it wasn't all the man was saying it was, not in the long run, not for everyone. However, he dared to think that for Snow and David, two people lucky enough to have shared True Love and not cast it away as he had…it might have been the truth.

Finally, the moment came. The man turned to David. "Your Majesty…"

He smirked in his Tower. "Your Majesty", not "Prince James". Clever boy. Calling him "Prince James" would have been a false identity and made the marriage invalid. He'd expected them to use his false name in this ceremony since they'd already been married once before but it appeared they were doing this right. Since they were already crowned King and Queen, there was no lie to be found in "your Majesty" the marriage was legal, binding, and therefore completely unbreakable.

"Do you promise to take this woman to be your wife, and love her for all eternity?"

"I do," David grinned.

"And do you, Snow White, promise to take this man to be your husband, and love him for all eternity?"

"I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife!"

And that was it. They were finally married. Finally, officially married. Finally, free to share a bed and produce a child.

A round of applause exploded around the room. Even Grumpy, who needed a sharp elbow from another dwarf, had clapped. It was so loud that it echoed off the walls of even his tower, and he let it. Over one hundred years of waiting and the couple was finally King and Queen of their own new realm, and husband and wife. Now if only he could make a mother and father out of them.

He saw Snow and David reach for one another to seal their promise with a kiss but-

Suddenly there was a noise from the other side of the chamber. The door had opened a third time, and that sight…that was something to behold.

"Sorry I'm late," Regina announced, standing in the frame wearing a long black gown that mocked Snow's and everything about the happy sight. It was dramatic; it was powerful. It was so damn impressive he didn't think he'd ever been prouder of his student. He felt his mouth curl into a smile as he watched her. Yes, very impressive.

She walked down that same aisle that Snow and David had, the pair of them in her sights, but they didn't flinch. Probably because they knew they were safe, an assumption that only one of them was correct about. But as she got closer to the well, he realized they might be the only ones to realize it. Two guards dove out of the crowd and toward her, armed with swords. She pushed them away easily enough with her magic.

"It's the Queen. Run!" he heard someone shout. But Snow didn't run. Instead she drew David's sword from his belt and pointed it at Regina.

"She's not the Queen anymore. She's nothing more than an evil witch!"

"No, no, no. Don't stoop to her level, there's no need," David reminded, taking the sword from his wife. "You're wasting your time," he informed Regina. "You've already lost. And I will not let you ruin this wedding."

"Oh, I haven't come here to ruin anything. On the contrary, dear, I've come to give you a gift," she proclaimed.

"We want nothing from you."

"But you shall have it!" Regina shouted at her stepdaughter before throwing her cloak behind her and beginning to pace back and forth in a way that forced others to yield their ground to her when they looked at her. "My gift to you is this happy, happy day. But tomorrow, my real work begins. You've made your vows, now I make mine. Soon, everything you love, everything all of you love, will be taken from you. Forever. And out of your suffering, will rise my victory. I shall destroy your happiness, if it is the last thing I do." And with that the Evil Queen turned on her heel and made her way back down the aisle, heading for the door to-

"Hey!" David suddenly cried out, forcing her to turn back and look at him. He threw his sword at her, let it sail right through the air on a coarse set for Regina's heart. But she vanished just before it could, taking the sword with her. Nervous conversation broke out around the hall as David reached forward to hug Snow White but he let the image fade and sat down in his chair laughing. Tomorrow her real work would begin...that couldn't have gone better if he'd done it himself!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, the classic season one, episode one scene that really set the stage for everything. I have nothing to really say about it other than I hope you'll like what I filled in.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the previous chapter. The next chapter is a necessary one with a little something that you might not be expecting. Peace and Happy Reading!


	207. After the Wedding

He hadn't planned on going anywhere after the wedding and Regina's pronouncement. He hadn't figured he would need to go anywhere. Snow and David, after their wedding and a conversation about Regina, had gone on their honeymoon. They'd left that evening so that they could get to the summer palace by morning. He didn't bother to watch them navigate in the dark. There was no point. He knew them well enough to know that if they had waited this long to consummate their marriage, they weren't about to pull over on a dirt road and do it. No, the King and Queen would wait until they reached the palace. They'd make sure there was a bed for them to sleep in, and knowing them, there would probably be a fire and wine and cheese and fruit and maybe even a picnic beforehand. They'd romance one another, then fumble awkwardly with clothes and hand positions, blushing as all virgins did their first time. They'd take things slow…as if they hadn't gone slow enough already.

There was no point in watching Snow and David, but Regina, on the other hand…she provided him plenty of entertainment and allowed him to collect something that he simply couldn't let pass him by.

After she'd made her pronouncement, she ended up back in her rooms at her palace; she and one other little thing that she'd carried with her from the Charming Wedding-David's Sword. He hadn't realized what a close call she'd had with it until she reappeared, and the thing flew past her and embedded itself into the wall of her chambers. She looked it over for a moment, but only a moment before roaring at her father to bring her the carriage; another one, he assumed, as she'd taken one to the Wedding. Perhaps that was part of her wedding present to the Charmings; their happy day and a carriage she'd abandoned when they'd nearly killed her. Lovely. But not as lovely as what he saw next.

Regina. In the back of her carriage. Riding for hours just as the Charmings were, only her destination wasn't the Summer Palace, but rather something far more sinister. As Regina entered Maleficent's domain, he dare not turn away.

The Dragon was still in heat, apparently. It had been months…surely dragons didn't stay in heat for this long! But, if what she was wearing was any indication, then he knew very little about female dragons. It seemed impossible, but the dragon was all curly hair and purple robes and a headband that certainly didn't give off the same fearful and wicked vibe that her black horned headpiece did to enemies. For her sake, he hoped that this phase wouldn't last much longer. The woman called herself a villain; so long as she was like this, she looked more like the Blue Fairy's half-sister.

But he hadn't pulled their image up in the cauldron to look in on what the dragon was wearing. He'd pulled it up so that he might see a dreadful decision finally undone. He couldn't hear, of course, heat or not, Maleficent was still a powerful dragon, and the spell that she'd placed over the reflective surfaces in her castle held true. But he didn't need to hear in order to see what he wanted to. He just had to watch.

And so he watched as Maleficent invited Regina into her home, as she used her magic to kindle a fire and summon two chairs to sit beside it. He watched as Maleficent retrieved wine, and the pair sat and chatted amiably with it in their hands before things changed. Drastically.

Everything changed. Their body language, their smiles, their faces. Everything suggested that a once friendly moment had suddenly become something far more deadly. All at once, Maleficent rose from her seat, and Regina summoned fire from the fireplace. It was a battle. Oh, he hoped he knew what the battle was for. Maleficent jumped away and cast a protection charm against Regina's fire, a relatively weak defensive spell considering her magic could have torn Regina apart. Perhaps heat did interrupt her magic, weaken her or just make it act wonky. Perhaps Maleficent wasn't thinking clearly. Or maybe she was, and she wasn't as committed to protecting the Curse from Regina. Maybe she was a villain.

Whether or not Regina saw what he did, it didn't stop her. When the fire failed, she summoned swords and javelins off the wall and aimed them at her pet, a miniature unicorn. The Dragon jumped again to protect the beast with another protection spell. But in protecting it, she'd wound up right where Regina wanted her. Compelled, she collapsed a chandelier on her and let the metal wrap itself around her body. Her staff clattered to the ground, and Regina retrieved what he'd been longing to see in her hands for years.

The Dark Curse. She intelligently unfurled it and read it before she left, checking to make sure what was there wasn't a decoy or a fake. But there was something else in her eyes as she examined it. There was an interest there, a fascination he'd never seen in her before, not with that Curse. When he'd handed it to her before, it was just a thing, a slip of paper he'd given to her. Now hungry eyes devoured it like it was an oasis in a desert.

Satisfied with what she'd found, Regina left. Maleficent struggled for a few moments, but angry and unable to contain her magic burst into a dragon and flew off before Regina could even get back into her carriage.

And there it was. Regina had the Dark Curse back. It was finally all falling into place, and he was suddenly so happy he could have cried! He could have cried…but there were other things he had to do.

Like, take advantage of Regina's absence, even if it meant risking alerting her genie. With his student gone, he went to her castle to pry David's sword out from the wall and then took it home with him. The next night, as he sat with the blade on his table, the potion with his blood in it to safely recall it back to him once they were in the new world, he checked in on Snow White and David.

When he found them together in the summer palace, she was lounging on a chaise, eating fruit, drinking wine, talking to David. It was just as he'd predicted without the help of the Seer, which was why he turned away and banished the image when the pair started to kiss. He sat down in a chair by the fire and tapped his fingers together, grinning with glee.

After all this time…Regina finally had the Dark Curse back in her possession, and Snow and David finally sleeping together in a way that had significant consequences.

It was about damn time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short but necessary chapter. I wanted Rumple to take David's sword because really...he may as well. After David discards it, it goes back to Regina's, and we never see it again (timeline-wise) until Gold gives it to Emma in his Pawn Shop. I doubt Regina ever said, "oh, by the way, here's this back." So really...why not have Rumple take it? David has used it enough by now that it could be called "her father's sword," and I liked the idea that Rumple took it for safe-keeping much more than I like the idea of Regina taking it and keeping it.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your reviews on the last chapter. I always got the idea from this chapter that Emma was pretty much conceived on their wedding night, so timeline-wise, you have about nine months left. Of course, Rumple is imprisoned for part of that, but not all of it. We have two more chapters left in this section. Ready? Peace and Happy Reading!


	208. Two Mothers, Two Children, Two Worlds

It had been a dull two months. Work, work, work…he'd taken to seeing some people again and dealing just to quell some of his boredom. The truth was that at the moment, there was really nothing that he could do except to keep himself busy and watch. Regina was working diligently on the Curse, with a passion for the magic he'd given her as he'd never seen before in the girl. That was good. She was depending upon it; she had faith and a heart in what it was and what it would bring to her. That was very good for him. Since acquiring it, she'd barely been back to her castle, just a few stops inside to gather a couple of dresses and ingredients from her stores, but she soon discovered that the Curse, while simple to create, was not simple to assemble. That was how she'd been spending her time, analyzing the ingredients and gathering them together so that she could create the Curse that would allow her to destroy the happiness of Snow White.

But while Regina was fretting about trying to end that happiness, he had the very distinct feeling that the Queen's happiness was only growing. He hoped that soon enough, something else would be growing too, if not already. Snow and David had enjoyed a very extended honeymoon. With the dwarves placed in charge of the Kingdom in their absence, they stayed at the Summer Palace for the last two months, on their own, usually wearing very comfortable clothes and sometimes wearing none at all. When he caught them in those moments, he was always sure to look away, but the sight of it was enough to give him a small thrill as he wondered if that was the time that they might conceive the Swan.

The end of their honeymoon finally arrived, brought on by the need to attend an extraordinary event he too had been waiting for. When a carriage finally arrived for them at the Summer Palace, the pair were dressed regally again and set off for another Kingdom.

Just as his vision predicted, there were fireworks over Prince Thomas's castle on the night that they arrived, but this time the fireworks were for a ball of a different kind. This was a celebration! A wedding! Snow and David had finally wed and now so had Cinderella and Thomas. The couple had attended the wedding earlier in the day before putting on gowns and finer clothes for the wedding banquet that evening. In a day or so, Snow White and David would leave the castle with everyone else, return to their Kingdom, and their honeymoon would be over. But for now, they were dancing the night away with Cinderella and Thomas, and, much to his own surprise…him.

The Seer was telling him to go. She was urging him to leave his tower and claim his prize for what he'd done for Cinderella now that she was wed, and there was no turning back. His prize…

He'd been purposefully vague the first time he'd met the girl telling himself he didn't want to settle on anything in particular, but if he was honest, he always knew what he was going to ask for.

"A favor"…it had to be carefully chosen, something that would seem impossible for dear Ella to give and yet something that made an exchange with the Savior seem small by comparison. He knew exactly what it had to be, whether because of his own dealing instincts or because the Seer had told him he didn't know, and he didn't care. He was ready to get this underway.

At the ball, he watched from the shadows in his own golden clothes, as Thomas and Cinderella were announced and descended in their finest white clothes to the ball that had been planned for them, the one that Snow and David had chosen to attend as a cap to their honeymoon. Tonight the pair were dancing and smiling at the wedding. Tomorrow they'd be back in their own palace, Snow would probably be dressed in pants as she almost always was these days, and they'd oversee the affairs of their Kingdom as Regina continued to collect the ingredients she needed to complete the Curse that would destroy them and everyone here. He couldn't wait.

But he did wait, for now, watched and waited for the right time to get the princess alone. The time came, of all times during a dance. Dances at balls wouldn't have seemed the obvious choice; they were usually so well planned, the steps were memorized partners exchanged in perfect harmony…until the lovely Snow White undid it all. At a moment when Cinderella should have been dancing with her husband and Snow was paired with an older gentleman, she abandoned him. She disrupted the flow and the steps as the two princesses had a conversation and danced with each other leaving their gentlemen standing there unattended. It was a perfect way for him to get to speak with her and leave without being noticed.

"All I did was get married," he heard the girl explain to the princess as he sauntered closer to get into position.

"All you did was show that anyone can change her life," Snow corrected. "I'm proud of you."

And just like that, Snow fell away, went back to dancing with the gentleman that should be paired with Cinderella, but because Snow had missed the chance to move on and her own husband was now dancing with the next woman in line. He was all too happy to fill the void the small hiccup had left for him.

"I'm proud of you, too," he smiled as she stopped turning. It was perfect. Though she stopped moving and looked at him as though he'd just stolen all the happiness out of the room, he grinned ear to ear and didn't miss a beat of the dance that one of the Dark Ones had fortunately learned in their time.

"You. What are you doing here?"

He grabbed her waist, forcing her to dance along to the music so that it wouldn't look so conspicuous to onlookers, and as he did, he got a whiff of her skin and nearly let a laugh loose. In the months leading up to their wedding, she and Prince Thomas, it seemed, hadn't been nearly as restrained as Snow and David had.

"I just wanted to make sure you were happy with your end of the bargain. You know–true love, riches, happy endings. Did you get everything you desired?"

"Yes. Yes, I did. Now, what do you want?" she questioned coldly, going along with the dance. "What's your price? My jewels? The ring?"

Oh, if only it were that simple. "No, no dear. Keep your baubles. What I want is something you don't yet possess, but something I know is coming…your firstborn," he proclaimed, giving her a spin so that he could step away. He didn't leave her time to beg or time to swallow the pill he'd given her, just left her there to digest what she'd heard. It was better that way. He always had to be what they wanted him to be, and to her, he was a dark and terrifying menace. Getting in and out without notice was sure to leave her just as unsettled as the news that he'd delivered to her.

When he returned to his castle and was able to watch her in his mirror, the look on her face said it all, and he beamed with pride at the work that had been done and the plan that had been laid. That night she'd gone from someone happy and carefree as a lark to carrying a dreadful secret.

She didn't know that she was pregnant yet, or at least she hadn't, but now it was all there in the open. Apparently, her dear step-mother never did tell her what came of late-night dalliances with princes. It was new. He couldn't blame her for not yet knowing. The smell was faint, but it was there. Pregnancy was magical all on his own, and he could always smell it on a woman. Several women in that room were pregnant, he was hoping that Snow was one of them after two months of honeymooning, but he dared not get close enough to her to confirm. Why bother, he trusted the Seer, and now that trap was set-

Nine months

_No…more than nine months…decades._

Oh, he nearly dropped the crystal ball in his hand when the Seer began talking to him, warning him that his timeline was wrong. Cinderella wouldn't have her child in nine months; instead, it would take decades because the child…the child wouldn't be born in this world. It would be of this world, how could it not with two parents like Cinderella and Prince Thomas?! But the child, a girl named Alexandra…she wouldn't be born in this world because she was destined to be born in that world; A World Without Magic, which meant that in less than a year, he'd be in the World Without Magic. If the child was to be born in that world, but he knew that the Swan was to be born in this world, that she would outrun the Curse that was coming from him, then that meant…Snow White was pregnant too!

Oh, he'd seen nothing to confirm this yet, he hadn't been able to get a good smell of the woman tonight, and after two months, it was entirely possible that she was only on the brink of knowing! The two women might only be days apart, but it would only take a moment to save one child and freeze the other in time until the curse broke. Snow White was pregnant. He knew it was true, and it was the most beautiful truth he'd ever heard. He had less than a year before he was in the same realm as Baelfire once again.

It was time to make final preparations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Cinderella is married! And that twist that I promised you is? She's already pregnant. I don't want to get into the lengths I took to calculate all this and place these events on the timeline. Just trust me here, in order for her to get stuck in the Curse for 28 years and have the baby when it begins to break, she has to be pregnant now. I chose to let time pass between Thomas getting Cinderella back and their wedding because, well, the reactions in this scene. Snow and Cinderella greet each other like they are old friends who might have been writing for months instead of just strangers that met at a ball the day before. And Ella's reaction to Rumple...that was the key to this. She's shocked when she sees him, it's almost like until that moment she'd forgotten about him entirely and if all this happened in a few days or even a week...I just couldn't see that reaction happening without proper time. And it is a royal wedding and Thomas's dad seems like he's had time to get to know Ella as well. If Thomas brought her home and in one night said, "this is the girl I want to marry," I feel like there would be some skeptical and standoffish signs. Instead, it's like they're one big happy family. So for me, it made more sense to separate the events with some time and then handle the pregnancy issue by just assuming one night the Prince and Ella had a few too many drinks, their rooms are close to each other, and well...when the time is right, it just happens.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for the comments you left for me on the last chapter. Up next is the last chapter in this section. I know we all already know where we're going, but I think it'll give everyone an obvious indication of what we'll find in that final section. Peace and Happy Reading!


	209. The Swan's Confirmation

The girl of ash was pregnant.

Her debt to him was secured.

Snow White and Prince Charming were probably pregnant.

The firstborn of Princess Cora had his Curse in hand as well as the ability to cast it.

And people said that villains never won…

He nearly felt like he was in heaven. His burden was still heavy, but now that he knew he'd be in the Land Without Magic by year's end, he felt lighter. He felt like he could breathe. He almost felt the same peace now that he'd had when he had Baelfire and Belle around him. He couldn't get his Belle back, only wrap himself up in memories of her and fantasies he'd made with her. But Baelfire was still out there; his son was waiting. He could settle for that.

Until one little witch had to go and make him nervous, well, perhaps "big witch" would have been a more accurate description.

He'd been keeping an eye on Maleficent ever since Regina had stolen the Curse back from her simply because the dragon hadn't given her much of a choice. After Regina had stolen the Curse, her magic had overwhelmed her. She'd turned herself into a dragon and flown into his own territory and, from there, made herself "busy." He was shocked to discover she found a male dragon to copulate with, but she had. She'd remained in dragon form for a long while, but a couple of weeks before Cinderella's wedding, he'd watched as she finally went back to her castle and transformed back into a human. Her first act had been to call on Cruella and Ursula. He couldn't hear what they had to say, not with the spells she enchanted her castle with, but he could see well enough. He could see first and foremost that she wasn't over her time in heat, not yet, but after a brief and desperate looking conversation with the other "Queens," he could see her attempt to muster herself out of her stupor. A foolish idea, really. She was a dragon, first and foremost. She could no sooner control the urges of her body than he could control the dreams he'd had when Belle was in the castle. But she did try.

They'd traveled on foot, something he found odd until he watched the dragon attempt to do something simple, summon her staff into her hand, and she missed by several feet. Her magic still wasn't working the way she needed it to. Still in heat with no assurance of magic, yet the four struck off on some important quest. He'd have been a fool not to watch. And he'd wondered what exactly had been so important that forced her to try, so he'd been watching, keeping tabs on the dragon and her friends. And then, several days after Cinderella's wedding, he understood.

They stormed the castle Snow and David lived in, and Maleficent used what appeared to be all her energy to cast a sleeping spell, one that sent the entire property into a deep sleep. When David and Snow finally returned from Cinderella and Thomas's wedding, they found bodies everywhere. Drawing swords to explore with caution, the pair stumbled across the Queens of Darkness. Words were exchanged, though none he could hear in the courtyard, and before he could transport himself there to hear what was going on, they were escorting the three women into the castle, into the war room, where at least he could listen to the conversation with the help of a mirror.

"A war room…how welcoming," Cruella drawled.

"You said there was trouble and you needed our help-"

"No child, we said there was trouble, and you needed our help."

"-This is where we come when there is trouble of any kind. So speak now, or else leave."

"I don't understand," Snow butt in before David could say anything else. "Why did you come to us?" the Princess wondered aloud, putting her emphasis on the "us" part of the inquiry. He couldn't blame her. At the moment, it was what he wanted to know too. Villains going to heroes when there was trouble…that was highly unusual.

"That threat Regina made at your wedding, about ruining your happiness? It wasn't all bluster. She has a way to make it happen."

He rolled his eyes. Stubborn dragon. She was a creature of evil; he didn't know why she couldn't leave well enough alone, and for that matter, why Ursula and Cruella listened to her and helped.

"How do you know?" David questioned.

"Because Regina just stole the darkest of curses from me," she snapped. A bit of a stretch. It had been months ago but then again, who knew how time passed when a dragon was in heat or dragon form. For all she knew, it really did feel like just yesterday.

"It's the Dark Curse," Cruella explained, "and it makes that poison apple thing she did to you look like child's play. It will punish all of the Enchanted Forest, including us."

"So what are you suggesting, that we storm the Evil Queen's castle together?" David questioned rashly.

"Oh, if only your wits matched your looks."

"There is a magical tree deep within the forest," Maleficent went on, ignoring her, "the fairies call it the Tree of Wisdom. It will answer any question asked of it."

"Including a query about how to defeat the Queen and her Curse," Cruella added.

"So why don't you ask it yourselves?"

"The tree's knowledge is protected. Its wisdom can only be unlocked by two of the most valiant heroes."

"Which is why you need us."

Maleficent stepped around Cruella and used magic to put a piece of paper on the table using magic. "The map to its location. We will escort you there for all of our safety." As she circled back around, David pulled Snow aside, and they exchanged words, words too low for him to hear, though he did catch a word or phrase occasionally. "Defeat the Evil Queen", "trust", "as bad as Regina", "curse", "what choice do we have?"

The five of them set off on an expedition then, though he wasn't sure if it was because they trusted each other or because Maleficent only promised to remove the curse once they'd gone with them.

The voyage wasn't easy. He tracked them as they moved together for well over a week, hunting, traveling, agreeing, disagreeing. At one point, Maleficent was able to use her magic to transform into a dragon and burn a bridge. The Charmings hadn't been happy about that, but it was clear on this journey that there was very little they were happy with. Though, frankly, if the glance that Maleficent exchanged with Ursula and Cruella after her transformation was any indication, she hadn't been happy about using that magic either. She must have been storing it up for something.

Finally, one morning, when dawn came but before the witches arose, he spied Snow and David rise early and run. They were close, maybe an hour or so from their destination. And they took advantage of the witches' sleep and their proximity. By the time the others would learn that they were gone, they were nearly there.

He bit his tongue, observing them on his crystal ball, realizing that something good might come out of this after all. They arrived and fit their hands into the handprints the fairies who created the tree had left for them. The tree glowed yellow. A happy sunny golden light shuddered up through the rocks they'd touched, to the roots of the tree, through the trunk, up the branches…and then it turned red; ugly, angry red.

They were confused.

He was ecstatic.

They weren't going to get their answer, not that day. Because the tree needed valiant heroes, people of good. He smiled as the others arrived, and they had a conversation that allowed them to put the pieces together that he'd already solved.

David was good.

Snow was good.

But it hadn't worked because there had been a third person with them, a third person who's story hadn't been written yet, who could go one way or another.

At last, he finally knew for sure, Snow White and her Prince Charming were pregnant.

The future had finally arrived! Confirmation that the Swan was now in existence, even if only in the belly of her mother, was enough for him. He could see the future, and in it, he saw all the things that he hadn't yet seen come to pass in a new light.

_He saw the dark-haired man that Jiminy knew, who also knew Baelfire. He saw the little shop that he felt a strange sense of pride and adoration for. He could see the man beneath a gray hood and his own face not scaled from the curse. A baby in his arms and the form of someone in the bed beside him. An image of a globe with landmasses he didn't recognize. A pink house, the names Neal and Gideon with images of a man who had dark graying hair and one who had golden blonde hair. Roses and a crystal necklace, a voice that sounded like Belle's choking out, "I love you." He'd done it. It was set. Queens of Darkness or not, he could see his future and his son barreling down at him! And his future, in the time he had left in this land, he saw…a cell._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, finally, we make it to that little fact. Rumple tells Emma in season two that the cell was where he wanted to be; ever think it was odd that we made it this far without mentioning the damn thing? Answers for that and more are coming up in the next section, which begins as soon as you click "next chapter".
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the previous chapter. Maleficent was the most difficult character to work with in this fiction because she appears several times in different appearances and with different strengths. The more you unravel her story and put it into order, the less sense it makes. So, I'm choosing to use the excuse that being a dragon puts her in certain states of mind and messes with her magic. Is it a cheap, easy out? Yes, absolutely. But does it work? I suppose that's up to you to decide. 10 chapters and 1 section left. Are you ready for it? Then let's begin. Peace and Happy Reading!


	210. His Final Resting Place

So the Seer had been keeping secrets from him. She was a clever little bitch when he got right down to it. She'd kept this secret because she knew that he might have been resistant to it in the beginning, perhaps fought her, and tried to find another way around it. But now that he was only a few months away from his Curse being enacted, she knew he hadn't a choice but to trust her and go along with her path. She told him things when he needed to know them. And to think that sometimes he thought he was gaining control of her.

It wasn't hard to find this location. Not with his magic, though, it was odd how his magic reacted to it. A month or so after he'd gotten the news, when he noticed that the Charmings, Cinderella, and her Prince Thomas were beginning to exchange more messages, he felt ready to see it, accept it, and make the appropriate plans. So he'd pictured it in his mind, the image of the future the Seer had once given him of Snow White standing in a dark place some distance from him, completing her deal to tell him the truth if a question was ever asked of her, and then he went there. But his magic didn't bring him to that place, to where he wanted to be. Instead, he arrived in a wooded area within King George's Kingdom. He inhaled through his nose and smelled dwarf as well as…fairy magic.

Ordinarily, he might run from a smell like that, but this time he pulled his dagger from his boot, for extra measure, and walked toward it. If ever there was a plan to contain him, he should have known fairies would be behind it.

The scent of magic grew stronger as he walked through the forest, dagger out, following after the trail of it like he was some kind of bloodhound. It led to somewhere unexpected…an old Fairy Dust Mine. There were boxes outside, freshly covered with hide. If he had to guess, they'd only arrived a few days ago. He pried the lid off one and glanced inside. Iron, silver, bronze, and gold, raw metal materials that stunk of fairy magic. In another one, hammers, nails, axes, smelting cups…construction materials. He glanced at the entrance to the mine in front of him. The wooden frame to the cave entrance was dilapidated, the smell of dwarf was there, but it was old. Clearly, this mine had not been used in years. And yet new materials were being delivered? Because this was what the King and Queen were planning with the Prince and Princess. This was it—his new prison.

Sensing no heartbeats coming from within the caverns, he slid his dagger back into his boot and proceeded inside. It wasn't much of a prison, but then again, it wasn't much of a mine either. This cave hadn't been mined probably since he was a boy and a shoddy job they'd done on it too. He could still feel the fairy dust in the walls. There was one tunnel as opposed to dozens he knew that mines often used. At the cave entrance, the ground went down, then made a turn, then made another turn and…

There it was.

He was drawn to one particular spot about halfway down the hall. Oh, he could practically see the ghost of Snow White from his vision standing there when she told him her truth. But from where he stood now, her back was to him, and from where she stood in the vision, she'd faced him. His eyes drifted beyond her, down the darkened hall—the cavern's end, a dead end.

That was it. His future home. His cell.

Boxes had been stored here just as they were outside, but he could see footsteps in the dirt and small drawings where bars were meant to go. Bars made of gold, silver, bronze, and iron…all elements that mythically kept magic at bay. They'd done their homework. While a single one of those elements wouldn't keep him from his magic, all of them combined would surely dampen it. The metals…and one other thing.

He felt it when he crossed the lines on the dirt that indicated with the cell would begin. Fairy Magic. The unmined Fairy Dust that still sat in the walls had a long time to stew. It was powerful stuff. This cell, this small space, it acted not unlike Bald Mountain. It wasn't at such a high concentration as that mountain, but it was enough that he felt his magic diminish immediately. Outside the cell, he had it, inside…there was a noted soreness in his bad ankle. It was present, but he was grateful that the pain wasn't overwhelming as it had been the first time he'd been to Bald Mountain. He could live with a bit of soreness for a while. That wasn't the only effect of being in the room. The voices in his head were quieter, the sound of ordinary prattling became a whisper, and whispers from the less powerful became nothing. Nimue, Zoso, and the Seer, they were the three most prevalent if he cared enough to focus on them…which he didn't. He couldn't transport himself inside or outside the cave, which was probably why his magic had delivered him to the forest instead of here. But…

He held his hand open and produced a ball of fire. It was small, smaller than he'd wanted it to be, but it was there. His magic wasn't gone entirely. Weakened to the point that creating fire made him want to take a nap for the first time in a hundred years, yes. But not gone.

He used what he'd created to light a torch he saw hanging against the wall. It was less work than keeping it lit. He was able to communicate with the Seer, but only just. She was dampened too, but when he focused, he knew that she wanted him to look around. To find something. A place to hide.

Yes…he had a plan, a plan for what he needed to do before the Curse was cast to wake himself up earlier than the others from the Curse and get a head start in helping the Savior break it. But if this was where he was going to be, if this was how he would be trapped, he needed to be smart about how he did it. At her urgings, he ran his hands over the future cell's walls. Something hiding. Something he needed to find. Something he needed to stumble upon.

There!

His hand ran along the walls, stone after stone without giving, but suddenly small rocks came tumbling down at his touch and revealed…

A crevice! It was small. He reached inside of it and stopped when he felt his fingers jam on the far side of it. It was maybe seven or eight inches deep. But the area inside created enough to hide just a few small precious objects.

Objects. Things. Oh, there was a lot he would love to leave within these walls. If he was to be here for a month or two, he would have loved to bring a spinning wheel. He'd want a blanket for comfort, Belle's chipped cup, his staff, maybe an item or two from his collection. But that wasn't an option. He had this one small space, and that was that. There was no room for anything else. His ability to create a Trigger to the Curse, a piece of magic that would wake him up when the time came, would take priority. He'd need to come up with something small and then hide only what he needed to work that magic, to set it in place. He'd need to be careful when he was in here, store up the magic he had, use it for one last grand piece.

Looking around the small space that was to be his own, he knew it wasn't going to be easy. He wasn't especially keen on small spaces like this, and he'd grown accustomed to living with a certain amount of grandeur over the years. This was going to be boring. Like rotting away forgotten. But he'd do it. He'd do it so long as he knew that Baelfire was on the other side. He'd lived well over a hundred and fifty years, and by the time the Curse broke, he'd be closer to two hundred. What were a few months of boredom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the eighth and final section, which I have appropriately entitled: The Final Section. Yeah, I know, not very original, but what do you expect? The first section was called "The Beginning Section," so it's only natural the last section should be called "The Final Section." This section isn't long, as you know, we've only got ten chapters left, but there's a pretty hefty checklist that goes with it. Snow and Charming have to make bad choices, Cinderella has to capture him, he has to close off the castle and stash some important things in his cell, and that's all before he's imprisoned and then received several fascinating visits while he's captive. A small section, but it's got a lot to do.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB and Futuresunshine02, for the previous comments; much appreciated! It's hard to believe we're down to the final ten! I'm so happy you've been with me through all this. It's been an honor as always to write for you. So let's not fall down in the 9th inning, and wrap this up nicely, shall we? Peace and Happy Reading!


	211. Evil From Good, Good From Evil

He was angry. So, so angry. So angry, he could barely see straight. Too angry to break or shatter his precious objects as he had in years past, so instead, he just sat there in his tower, his hands clenched into fists carefully balanced on his knees. He was almost certain that he squeezed one so tight a bone had broken. But focusing on that pain was all that was keeping him from doing something stupid, from going out and killing someone that he knew he shouldn't kill. If he did, the Seer warned, it would destroy everything. All his plans, his future, Baelfire, everything would be lost if he didn't control his temper at this moment.

Baelfire. He had to think of Baelfire. He was willing to give everything and anything to kill but not Baelfire. He was the only thing keeping him from going and killing Merlin's fucking Apprentice!

Snow White was pregnant. And now there was no doubt that the child would be a Savior, made of pure Light Magic. He knew that because he'd watched as her parents paid a high price to achieve that. The Queens of Darkness…it was all because of them. Them and a peddler and a unicorn and a fucking Apprentice who had been a thorn in every Dark One's side since before the Dark Ones were born!

After the incident at the tree with the Queens of Darkness, Snow and David had been unsettled. It had driven them to search for something, something they'd found in his land—a unicorn. Pure White Unicorns, as this one had been, had the ability to give visions of the future if the horn was touched. It, not the horse, was magical and why Unicorn Horn was an ingredient in powerful spells, especially those where a future element was called into question. They'd found such a beast, searched far and wide for it, and found it in his own damn back yard. When they'd touched it, David had seemed relieved but Snow, less so. The pair had stormed off and met a peddler who directed them right into the Apprentice's welcoming arms for tea and shelter from something awful.

Maleficent's magic had been off ever since she'd regrouped to inform the Charming's of the Curse…now he knew why. Her dalliance with a male dragon named Zorro had resulted in Maleficent finally laying her egg…a fertilized egg. Dragons tended to lay eggs frequently, especially after a heat cycle, but only a few were ever actually fertilized because of the species' rarity. They couldn't mate with ordinary dragons; it had to be one of their own, shapeshifters. Even then, if they were lucky enough to mate and lay a fertilized egg, very few of those managed to hatch. Hard as stone, dragon eggs were difficult things to break open even for the baby dragons within, who were often born with the soft bodies of human infants. It took something special for a new dragon-baby to break free.

Maleficent had laid the egg in his lands. That was really the only reason he was aware of her since he'd returned from the mines. It was hard to ignore the screams of a dragon lighting forests on fire and nesting in a cave not far from him. Admittedly, since she laid the damn thing, she left infrequently, maybe twice in the last month to find food. Cruella and Ursula had been busy lately as well, helping her to guard the cave that she'd chosen to make her nest in. Whenever those three were involved, he always thought it best to keep a sharp eye. But he'd never expected trouble to come in the way that it had. He'd never expected that the Queens of Darkness would fall prey to the likes of David and Snow that any of them would ever be victims next to them.

It was shocking. One minute he'd seen Snow and David, rerouted by the peddler at the Apprentice's house, but that night he'd seen movement in the cave Maleficent's egg had been laid in. He'd watched carefully, fearing for the day it would hatch, which would be soon as dragons and their eggs had a short window for gestation. But the movement he saw didn't come from a baby hatching. It came from Snow and David. They'd entered the cave. And what they did there…he hadn't been prepared for and never would even if he'd lived a thousand years.

The pair stole the child.

Stole it! Snatched it right from the nest Maleficent had prepared for it. Maleficent noticed, and he stared in horror as the Charmings tossed the egg around, back and forth between them as if it were nothing but a chicken egg! Maleficent fought hard to protect her child, but ultimately her hands, or claws, were tied. As long as either of the Charmings held that egg in their arms, she couldn't allow any harm to come to them lest her egg be caught in the crossfire. And so she'd transformed, back into a weaker human whose magic would be weakened until the child was a year old. Ironic…dragons were some of the most powerful magical creatures in their land, but when they went into heat and bore children…they became weak until the child could defend themselves. They were vulnerable. Maleficent was vulnerable.

She wore her famed black cloak now but beneath it nothing but a dressing gown. Even her infamous horns were gone, replaced with straight blonde hair and big eyes that begged the pair to leave her child alone.

They didn't.

They muttered words that he couldn't hear and was certain he wouldn't understand and then took off back through the cave. In a last-ditch effort to salvage her child, she used her staff to power a spell that might have stopped them, but weak as she was, the spell went wrong in the worst way. It hit the top of the mouth of the cave instead of the Charmings. There was a cave-in. Maleficent was trapped. Trapped until her friends, who he now saw were asleep outside the mouth of the cave, woke and found her and could shift the rocks to release her. She was trapped, and she knew it. On the way out, David had stepped on a small rattle, and he watched as the Mistress of the Night fell to her knees, cradled the thing in her hands, and wept.

As for the Charmings, he followed them until they met with the Apprentice in the woods. A spell was performed. He blanched at the realization that it was the Spell of Intent. He assumed that was what it was. At least, it appeared to be a textbook Spell of Intent, and if the way Snow continued to grasp at her stomach told him anything, it was a Spell of Intent on their child and Maleficent's.

Every child in the world was born with the ability to be good or to be bad…or somewhere in the between, as most were in the end. The Spell of Intent changed that. It removed the part of an unborn soul that had the intent of evil and essentially swapped it with another soul's intent for good. It was Dark Magic. Dark, dark magic. For while it gave one child an ability to be entirely good-natured, it cursed another to be dark-natured, no possibility of fighting back. It was a spell not even he would perform. And it wasn't just him.

 _That magic was outlawed by Merlin himself,_ Nimue hissed angrily in his ear. She didn't even know where the Apprentice had learned it! It was a terrible, awful thing! Even most of the Dark Ones thought so, and that was saying something.

But it was what he saw afterward that made him angriest, that made him want to leave his tower and murder that same Apprentice.

Beneath their feet, in the place the egg lay on the ground, a portal opened. A portal that looked just like the one that had taken his father away, a portal that looked like the one that had taken Baelfire away from him! It was a portal to another world!

Cruella and Ursula arrived and began screaming at the Charmings, but a moment later, they, along with the egg, had been pulled into the portal. And then it closed. Cruella, Ursula, and the baby were gone…Maleficent was trapped within the stronghold she'd meant to protect her child from the world. The Charmings at least looked remorseful, but the Apprentice…

It was as though it was nothing. As though he hadn't just opened up a portal to another realm, one where he assumed the evil dragon would be of no danger to anyone. Simple logic told him the only place that would happen would be a Land Without Magic. Oh, yes…there it was in his head.

_The familiar face of the blonde-haired Swan standing next to a woman with dark hair and Maleficent's cheekbones, both girls reeking of magic, an invisible chord between them which called out to the mismatched pieces of their souls dwelling in another body._

He'd sent her to the Land Without Magic. Which meant that the Blue Fairy was a liar.

The entire time…the Apprentice had the power all this time to send him to Baelfire, and he hadn't given it to him! He'd allowed the Charmings to do such a terrible, horrible, selfish thing to a child, but he who wanted so badly to have his son back had never been gifted the opportunity to go! He could have killed the Apprentice right then and there! And he was tempted too! Ever so sorely tempted to go! But the Seer kept him in check. And as he sat there in the stillness seething, it helped to remember that it wasn't just the Apprentice who had done this to him. No. The Blue Fairy shared the blame in this.

The pair were friends, the letters he'd seen long ago proved that. That meant that she did have the power to send him to the other world all this time. She'd only had to ask her "dear friend" to open the portal, and she could have done it. But she hadn't.

Oh, he'd make her regret that decision. She'd informed him that the cost of the Curse was this world for the next. Well, that was on her now. She could have sent him away, banished his evil from this world as easily as the Apprentice banished the girl from this one. But she hadn't. Once the Curse hit, she and the Apprentice would regret it with every fiber of their being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is. There's honestly not so much to say about this that hasn't already been said. It was a tough thing to watch, it was tough to write, I expect it's probably tough to read. With this chapter, I will say that I used a lot of the "magic excuse" to explain Maleficent. The idea that gestation time is different for a dragon allows Lily to fit into a story she really wouldn't have fit into otherwise. Her magic being weak until the baby is born is why she's trapped in a cave. And of course, that fact is also the reason why her aim is suddenly so terrible, and it misses the Charmings. It's clear as mud, I know, but for such a big character, A&E really did a shoddy job on her mythology.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the previous chapter. I can't say I hope you enjoy this chapter, but I hope you'll at least find it an acceptable edition from an unacceptable storyline. I did sort of enjoy shaming the Charmings a bit with Nimue and the Dark Ones saying it's a terrible thing that's happened. And it is. Totally unacceptable. For me, the motivation behind it was what made it just too much. I know the Charmings thought they'd bring the baby back and were ill-informed; I know the Apprentice wasn't working for himself but under Isaac's sway, but to still take a child just to make sure your own would be good, it just reeks of evil. Peace and Happy Reading!


	212. Angry Revenge

He was an angry man. One that was filled with rage and revenge and a desire to make others hurt just as badly as he felt he'd been hurt sometimes. Baelfire was always his motivation, but sometimes the anger felt like it was just as strong a motivator.

The only good thing he could see regarding what the Charmings had done was that now they were consumed with guilt. In his opinion, highly appropriate guilt, but he knew there was a Kingdom that would probably think otherwise. The pair set out to help everyone they could, save everyone they could save, in an effort to clear their conscience, he assumed. They threw themselves into the mine shaft and helping Cinderella and Thomas, who had announced only a week ago that they were expecting a child. So as they worked on his prison, he did do. He worked on final arrangements, those that he needed to make as well as those that would satisfy some of the gnawing anger he felt in his chest every time he took a breath.

First came what he needed to do. The Trigger to wake him up from the Curse. It was a simple matter, really. One that took a bit of pre-planning as well as one that relied on the future to bring him what he needed. A missing ingredient: a bit of the Dark Magic attached to the Curse. Of course, all this information would have made his job a lot easier if he'd known about it before! But he couldn't change his past, only continue to steer himself in the direction of the future. He had a small space in which he could hide things. So he'd chosen carefully. A bewitched quill, one that could channel magic, transfer spells from one surface into that of the writer. Squid ink, magic on its own, it would act as a battery, give his own magic a bit of a boost when he needed it most. And squid ink was long-lasting. The Seer said it was important that what he used it for would withstand the Curse. He knew that it would. Finally, a bit of parchment. There was nothing special about it, not now. It needed first and foremost to be infused with magic from the Dark Curse in order for his plan to work, and for that…he was trusting the Seer to see to that. It was big detail but a relatively small one in an operation he'd been working on for over one hundred years. He trusted her. She'd see him through.

One night, as everyone but the guards to his future prison slept, he cast a sleeping spell sending them into a deep sleep, and entered his future home. It was nearly complete. The bars had been installed, the cell itself hallowed out a bit more to create more "space", if the wretched thing could be called that. But the crevice he'd found previously was still there. Inside his hiding spot, he slid the parchment, the quill, and the squid ink.

It was done. All was ready for him when the time came…and he knew it was coming.

The women were pregnant, maybe six months. He figured he had about three more months to go before the Curse struck, when a blue jay arrived at his tower window and chirped loud enough to get his attention. Attached to the bird's leg was a note, a small one signed "Princess Ella." He had to read the entire thing before he remembered that "Ella" was Cinderella's true name, despite what the Seer called her. The note was a simple request that he meet her a month from now to discuss the terms of their "agreement." He'd been expecting something like this. After all, they had announced to the Kingdom the coming of a royal child, they wouldn't do that if the time came and they had nothing to show for it. A meeting like this was necessary to trap him and the bluebird…well, that was Snow White's idea, no doubt. He sent word back with the bird that he accepted the meeting both the time and the place, and once it was off, he knew that would be it—his last day.

He knew how men often spent their last days of freedom. They spent them with the things and the people they loved the most. Some went to taverns, while others surrounded themselves with their families. He had no one. And the truth of the matter was the only thing he truly loved in this world, besides Belle's chipped teacup, was his spinning wheels. Perhaps, in a perfect world where he hadn't reacted so poorly, he would have spent these last days with Belle here in the tower. Or, if he had sent her away as he should have, he'd have found her and brought her back or stayed with her. He might have told her how he felt about her, about his plan, about all of his mistakes. But it wasn't possible. So he focused on what he had.

Revenge.

Yes, he knew…he knew that he wanted to be in that cell. The Seer told him he wanted to be in the cell, so he would go, but that didn't mean he wouldn't keep up appearances. If he did nothing in retaliation, they might discover that he wanted to be there, which would lead to questions, and he couldn't have that. It had to look like he'd done something in revenge for locking him away, and at the moment, that was something he wanted so bad he could taste it! It was misdirected, of course. The people he really wanted to kiss were the Blue Fairy and the Apprentice, but this would do. The Seer agreed.

 _"Separate them,"_ the Seer urged. _"Separation will drive the Swan forward."_

Who was he to doubt his secret weapon? Especially when her advice made him feel so much better!

He spent the month before his imprisonment spinning and thinking up the perfect plan for those involved. He didn't have to worry about Snow and David; Regina would take care of them. But Cinderella and Thomas were likely not on her radar, and if he didn't do something, then they might wind up together after all. The night before their meeting, he spent it at his workshop table, using his magic to create something truly special and unique. He was the Dark One, after all, he couldn't let the last bit of magic that he spun be ordinary.

It was a nasty trick he was about to play, he knew that, but they were close to casting the Curse. This baby would get him the favor he needed, and he didn't want anyone to be around to help Cinderella when the time came except the Savior. So he crafted something the world had never seen before; he called it a Dislocation Curse. It was a curse that would leave the victim stranded somewhere far away in the realm, a place even he knew not. And he intended to place it on Prince Thomas. It would ensure that he wasn't able to be by his dear Cinderella's side in this world and the next. But with two months to go…he had to be careful about how he did it, especially if he wasn't to have magic when they captured him, which he assumed they'd account for in their plan.

He wove his curse carefully, layer after layer, adding spell after spell. A Confusion Charm, to muddle the victim's mind a bit. A spell for hyperactivity, which would make him seem a bit crazed and unstable to anyone he might meet. A Stripping Potion, one that would tear all his fine things, all his money, right down to the clothes that he wore, leaving him in rags with not a penny to his name. And finally, just for good effect, he added a bit of hair growth tonic to create a beard and long knotted hair. Wherever Prince Thomas ended up, he'd look as though he was a beggar, and he'd act nearly insane. Even after he recovered from the Confusion Charm, what man or woman would ever believe a man like him was a Prince and get him home before the Curse was cast. It was possible, he supposed, if he met the nicest of souls, but after watching Snow and David steal Maleficent's child, he'd take his chance on the odds that the human race in the Enchanted Forest wasn't as wholesome and pure as they wanted to believe.

Next, he turned to how to distribute the curse. He couldn't just throw the potion he'd crafted at Thomas; that was harsh and unlike him. He wanted it to be as mysterious as Cinderella expected him to be. So he came up with another plan and another potion. He linked the Dislocation Curse to the secondary potion and added to both of them a time-delay. The Secondary potion was one that inflicted pain, muscle spasms, to be exact. A small bit of it applied topically to the dress of say Cinderella would have it seeping through her clothes and send her into a small fit of illness. If he could get Prince Thomas to touch the dress in the same place that he'd rubbed the potion it would transfer to him, a small spell of delay would give him a few moments until it all kicked in, but eventually, the curse would take him and all without a wave of his hand. It was brilliant. All he had to do was touch Cinderella and then have Thomas touch her in the same place, and fortunately for him, pregnant women always seemed to have one protruding body part that begged others to touch it.

The night before he met with Cinderella, he snuck into their rooms in their palace. Cinderella wasn't present, the sheets and blankets on her side of the bed were tossed back, and her slippers were missing as though she hadn't been able to sleep and had just gone for a short walk. Thomas, however, slept on through his visit. He felt not a single drop of the potion that he placed over all his joints and dropped into his mouth.

When he left, he was excited for the next day. He couldn't wait to see his handy work at play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene and the next were originally supposed to be one, but it grew too long, and I separated them. I'm aware that makes this chapter less than exciting, but I sort of had fun figuring it out. I think when I first saw this episode, OUAT was still new enough that I chalked the whole "Thomas disappears" thing up to magic. But the more time I've spent with Rumple over the years, the more I watched OUAT and studied the characters for my fictions, the more I wrote this fiction...I came to the conclusion that I didn't like that excuse. Rumple plans everything to a T. He doesn't leave things to chance. I wanted to explore the idea that he was behind Thomas' disappearance, but with him not having magic when the boy goes missing opened the door for me to set up Rumple's "Grand Finale!"
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, for your comments on the last chapter. I really do hope you don't mind what I did with this chapter. Playing around with magic and adding layers to it like this is sort of fun. It's enough to make me think that if I lived in this world, I might have actually enjoyed learning how to make spells and craft potions. If you are ready, then let's move on to His Grand Finale! Peace and Happy Reading!


	213. His Grand Finale

The day before he left to make his deal was busy and sad, slow and painful, happy and relaxing all at once. He walked his home, walked the halls of his castle, the one he'd always intended for Bae to share with him. He walked with the potion to call items to him in one hand but looked around with the eyes of a stranger. This was the last time he'd be in this castle, maybe forever. But his trip with Zoso so long ago to his former home reminded him that nothing was permanent. Just because he wouldn't be returning here didn't mean that others wouldn't. So he made it safe. When he stumbled upon an item he knew he wanted in the other world, he anointed it with his potion and then made the decision whether to hide it or to leave it for whoever might venture into his home between now and the curse. Belle's chipped cup and her teapot, the only surviving pieces of her tea set, aside from the saucer in the cabinet, he put in her dungeon cell. Pandora's box was safe where it was hidden in the kitchens, but the idea of anyone walking through the dungeons and kitchens she'd once called her own made him want to vomit. So he placed the tea cup's plate back in the stack by the door and then sealed them. He used Heart Magic, a kind of magic he rarely used because of how easily it left him drained, but after tonight he wouldn't be using his magic for quite some time. He may as well use it for this. Using Heart Magic to seal the lower levels ensured that the doors and windows disappeared, never to be opened again unless someone who loved him touched them. Someone…with Belle gone, that was only Baelfire. He couldn't use blood magic because he didn't have Bae's blood, and anyway, heart magic was deeper and far more powerful. It would keep the world sealed away, freezing those things in time so that even if his castle was invaded, they'd never find the things he truly cherished.

The Saxony Wheel that he'd learned to spin on as a child he stashed in Baelfire's room along with all of Bae's clothes and possessions. Then he sealed that room as well. He put the flower Belle once sat upon Baelfire's altar into his room along with the Great Wheel his aunts used, then he followed the same procedure and sealed it all away. Books, a few other special items he didn't want anyone touching, like his dagger, he hid in Belle's library, in some of the stonework by the fireplace. If his captors were smart, they would search him before they placed him in his prison. He couldn't take his dagger with him. Sealed away in Belle's library, it was safest there.

He spent his last few hours in his tower, the place he'd felt most at home when Belle and Bae had gone. He didn't cast spells or work magic. He spun. Not straw to gold or string to gold. He just sat before his wheel, pulled wool in one hand, moved the wheel with the other, and watched as wool became thread. Then he double spun the thread and watched as it became yarn. He worked it the old fashioned way, the slow way. A flick of the wrist here and there, two steps forward, three steps back, just like his aunts taught him.

He nearly wept when the sun set. It wasn't like him to feel nostalgic or possessive of a place, but he felt that about this one. Or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe if there weren't the threat of leaving it, he wouldn't feel the way he did. He was slow to coat a flask in the potion he'd crafted the night before so that when his hands touched it, he could transfer the potion to Cinderella. He stuck it in his pocket, gave his Tower Haven one last look, then took a deep breath, walked down the stairs, and sealed it as he had the other important places in his castle. He walked one more time through the quiet castle, double-checking that everything he wanted on the other side was prepared, then seeing it was, he walked out the front door. He considered, very seriously, concealing the entire thing. But he couldn't shield the castle for everyone. And a castle standing with no windows or doors would look suspicious and tempting. He had to leave certain parts open as bait, allow the unimportant parts to be plundered and used so that the important parts would stay safe. This way, if Baelfire ever returned, he'd be able to truly have a home of memories to come back to.

With that resilient thought…he was ready.

On the night in question, he arrived right on time, and his senses expanded. She was there, looking lost and frightened as she properly should have, but he was no idiot. He knew she wasn't there alone. There were men all around them, talking over in the trees. In the woods, there was the stamp of horse hooves and the creak of wood and iron. He smelled Charming and Thomas somewhere close. One, two, three, four, five...five heartbeats, not counting those of Cinderella or her child. There was no escaping this moment. And he didn't want to. He pulled out his flask and rubbed his hands over it, absorbing the magic he'd left there.

"Well, well, well!" he droned loudly, announcing his presence to her as well as the others that were around. Their heartbeats all fluttered noticeably. And Cinderella, she wrapped her cloak around herself, trying to conceal her growing abdomen, as if that was going to help her. "You're starting to show. A little bird told me you wanted to speak?"

"Yes," she exclaimed, taking steps closer to him. "I'd like to alter the bargain."

"That's not what I do," he stated, purposefully playing hard to get. He had to maintain appearances.

"I think you'll want to…I'm having twins."

He choked down the urge to laugh. Instead, he imagined himself putting his laughter inside the flask and tossed it away. So that was how they were planning to do this, convince him it was twins, and then he'd want both as if he couldn't hear how many heartbeats there were for himself. Still, it did give him an opportunity.

"Is that so? Oh, let's have a look!" he announced, stepping forward and putting his hands on her stomach. His hands, and something more…

He touched her stomach, allowing his hands to smear the potion he'd developed over her belly. It would take some time to seep into her clothes, but not too long. He had to keep the conversation moving so that by the time it hit Thomas was out of hiding and would touch her stomach as well.

"And you would, what? Give up both?" he questioned of the girl. One heartbeat…not two. Oh, how he longed to call out her lies and expose the plan and show them all just how undefeatable he was! But for Bae, he kept quiet.

She nodded.

"Why is that, I wonder?"

"My husband, he's…he's having a hard time," she explained as she circled around him. Avoiding eye contact-proof of lies, as if he had any doubts. "Our kingdom is poor, we're losing money, our crops are dying…we can't support ourselves or our people."

More lies. Did they think that he had no idea what was happening in the world, that he didn't watch the Kingdoms just as avidly as he watched Snow and David? This was what they expected him to fall for?

"And you would trade your other child for…comfort?" he questioned, playing along.

Cinderella smiled a grin that made her look sinister. It would have been convincing if he didn't know every part of her tale was a lie. "I can always have more children, but I can't make crops grow where the soil is dead. In exchange for our other child, you will see to it that our land is once again fertile. I think it's more than fair," she stated, pulling out a long piece of paper titled "Contract."

That was suspicious all on its own. Was this how they were planning on catching him, with a phony contract? Was the magic to trap him written into it somehow?

"Yes!" he snapped eagerly. "Yes, yes, it is…if what you're saying is true."

"It is!" she insisted as he inspected the contract, trying to find the link in it that would remove his magic long enough for them to "capture" him and take him away. He could find none. Not at a glance, at least.

"And all you have to do…is sign on the dotted line."

Ah. Not the contract…the quill. It reeked of Fairy Magic. Too much fairy magic along with a concealment spell. Someone had bewitched it, some fairy, that was, and they'd gone through a lot of trouble to hide the fact that it was bewitched.

"What a lovely quill!" he laughed, snatching it from her hand. There was so much Light Magic on it that it practically burned his hand. "Wherever did you get it?"

"It's from our castle." An unlikely story…

"You know," he sighed, staring her down, "the only way to stop me is through magic."

"I'm not trying to stop you."

"Of course, you're not. Because, as we all know, all magic comes with a price," he announced, making the same physical comparisons he had on the day that he'd first met her. "And if you were to use it to, say, imprison me, then your debt to me would only grow. And we wouldn't want that, now, would we?" he threatened, knowing that she wasn't going to give into his threats.

The Princess only sneered at him. "Just sign the contract, please."

"Are you sure you're happy with this new arrangement?"

The girl took a breath…then two, then pushed the contract into his face again. So that was that. He took the contract in one and held the quill in his other. It was almost ironic, unfathomable in a way, how simple it all was. A stroke of the quill and he wouldn't see freedom, true freedom for until the Swan was twenty-eight. After more than a hundred years of this…it was going to be like a vacation.

"Then so it shall be."

He signed the contract.

Immediately he felt magic, Light Magic, spread over his body and hold him in place as the contract fell to the ground.

"Thomas!" Cinderella cried.

"No one breaks deals with me, dearie. No one," he growled just for show as the troops came rushing in. "No matter where you are, no matter what land you find yourself in, I assure you–I will have your baby."

"Never," Thomas said, coming out of the carriage. And then he did exactly what he wanted him to do. He tucked his Cinderella under one arm and placed his hand over her belly and rubbed, his skin soaking up the magic he had placed there, magic which would still be effective even if his own currently wasn't. He couldn't perform magic now, but he could still feel it, and the second he did, he felt the magic he'd placed on him and her as well join together and activate. He could feel it mingle in the air even as David and Grumpy came along, grabbed his arms, and fit him into the back of the jail carriage.

"After all, I've done for you…" he sneered for good measure.

"Quiet!" Grumpy snapped.

"Did we really win?" he heard Cinderella ask her Prince as the doors to his temporary cell closed.

"Yes. I told you we would."

"I was so afraid," she whispered as she placed her hand over his cheek and rubbed his skin as though she was clawing it. "I was so afraid that we'd fail. That…that I'd have to go back to that life, that…that terrible life. I was…I was afraid that I would lose you and that nothing would have changed."

"As long as I'm alive, you will never go back to that life," Thomas assured her before the pair kissed. "Now. How is our little Alexandra?" he asked when they broke apart. Magic filled the air again, and he glanced over to see…he was touching her belly again. The magic was working, on both of them…any second now…

"Alexandra?"

"Did I not mention that I picked out a name?"

"A name? That's more like a prison sentence."

"Well, I like it."

"Mm, men. You really know nothing of ch-" And then it happened. The child stopped mid-sentence, and her mouth dropped open. She let out a groan and then another one as Thomas pressed forward. "Ella, what is it?"

"Oh, it's…it's the baby," she stated, hunching over in pain. "Something's wrong."

"No, no, no. It can't be. It's too soon. It must be the stress. The excitement."

"Oh, I'm dizzy."

He smiled. Right on cue.

"Sit, sit. I'll go get you water."

"Okay," she breathed as Thomas launched off into the woods to a nearby well. Launched off for the last time. The magic he'd planted had been coming to fruition as he'd run. In no time, the Dislocation Curse would take him; it would send him far away with rags for clothes, a beard, no money, and no means of getting home until the Dark Curse was cast. They wouldn't be together for a very long time, not until after the Swan returned. Not until he was free. This had been a good deal.

All of a sudden, just as quickly as it had come on, the magic he placed on Cinderella passed. He hadn't meant it to do damage, just suggest damage. Unlike the Charmings, he had no desire to take a child from its mother. All he wanted was a favor from the Swan…and his reputation upheld.

"Thomas!" Cinderella cried out with a smile on her face. "It's okay! It's passed! Thomas?" She rose from her seat and followed after her husband. She walked into the forest. A few moments later, she returned in a fury. "What did you do?" she cried as David locked the door appropriately. He was able to move on his own again, stiff and not very well, but if they wanted him captured, then he needed to be locked inside.

"Ella, what's wrong?" David asked.

"Your Highness, what happened?" Grumpy wondered.

"What did you do to my Thomas?" Cinderella cried, throwing herself at the bars.

"I haven't done anything. In case you haven't noticed, I've been otherwise engaged."

"Something's happened to him. You know. Tell me!"

He turned to look at her with a sly smile. It was all about appearances. "I have no idea, dearie. But I did warn you–all magic comes at a price. Looks like someone has just paid."

"Don't listen to him!" David insisted. "We'll find Thomas."

"No, you won't," he interrupted. "Until that debt is paid, until that baby is mine, you're never going to see him again."

David tugged at Cinderella, dragged her away from him as if retreating to safety, a strange thing to do if one had such faith that he was truly captured.

"In this world or the next, Cinderella," he yelled after her. "I will have that baby!"

Or a favor from the Swan to get him back to his baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, literally, the chapter is called "His Grand Finale." And you thought I was being all dramatic in the last A/N. Well, here we are, Rumple's capture. These scenes were actually pretty fun to write. I know they're word for word what we saw on the show, but the in-between stuff allowed me to add some character to Rumple and to his plan, to display his craftiness. The beginning bit allowed me to properly set up season 3 when Belle and Bae get into the castle; I liked getting to write the backside of that. And I sort of like his running commentary throughout the deal.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB and LovelyClaire, for the comments you left me! I'm so glad you have enjoyed it! From here on out, we're going to be in that cell. And I know that seems boring but, trust me on this one, I did a little something special with those scenes, and I think, I hope, you'll like it. Just a hint for those scenes, when you start to read them, you might think that I've messed up. You might think I've put the wrong chapter in by accident. I suggest you just go with it. Keep reading. See where it leads you. You never do know where it'll take you! Peace and Happy Reading!


	214. Pieces of the Last

"No…my ending shall not be a happy one," he muttered, pushing himself away from the table, away from Belle, and away from the candle he'd doused just after lighting it because she'd interrupted him. He needed to spin. He needed to do something other than what he was doing. He needed her to take her roses and go so that he could work. Whether he had one minute or one decade with Baelfire after he found him, it would be worth all of this just to look into his son's eyes as he died.

"Well, you know, I, uh…I always thought the idea of a happy ending was greatly exaggerated," Belle muttered behind him.

Her words stopped him. They took his breath away because they were unexpectedly comforting. Comfort…he hadn't let himself feel comfort in ages but now, with her around, with Baelfire celebrating his birthday so far away he may as well be on another planet, he wanted that comfort from her. He didn't deserve it, but he wanted it.

"What do you mean?" he asked, turning to find her watching him. He took a step closer to her. In this cold tower, her heat was like a beacon drawing him in. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been warm.

"I've never understood why people call them 'happy endings,'" she explained. "Happy or not, an ending is final. It's the end. How could an ending ever be happy? It's the story, the journey taken, that's always far more interesting, far happier than any ending I've ever heard of."

He didn't know what to say to that. A beautiful woman, a good woman, who hated the idea of happy endings? The idea was preposterous, even for a woman who was unlike any other he'd ever met. Who didn't want a happy ending? Perhaps someone who had never had to worry about having one?

He shook his head at her naivety, even as she felt like she was far wiser than he'd ever be. "You read too many books." He dismissed her idea but found himself taking a step closer to where she was, where he wanted to be so desperately. "Don't leave," he wanted to scream. "Stay. Stay where you are forever. Let me stay in your light. My darkness is only a shadow next to you."

"Do you need anything?" she asked kindly as if sensing his desires. He had no doubt she actually could. "Tea? Dinner?"

"Company," he spat out before he could send her away. "Yours," he added, watching her reaction carefully.

She offered the same unassuming and understanding smile that she always did.

"I'm here to listen for as long as you need me to," she whispered, reaching across between them she ran her fingers through his hair. It was comforting. He found himself leaning into her touch, yearning suddenly for more of it.

"I made a choice once Belle…a choice that separated me from my son. It's my own fault."

"Can you fix it?"

"I'm trying," he admitted sadly, reaching up to cover her hand with his own because he didn't want her to pull away. He liked touching her. "I've been trying for over a century. It's all I wanted for decades, until…"

"Until…"

He glanced up at her and searched her eyes. She knew. She always knew. She felt the same things that he felt, whether he wanted to admit them or not. And he wanted to admit them. If he did, then maybe things would turn out differently.

"Until you came along," he confessed softly, reaching up to put his hand on her neck. She didn't shudder or wince at his touch. That always amazed him. "And suddenly, I don't just want something else; I want something more; someone more."

Her heart quickened. He could feel it in the pulse at her neck. She licked her lips, swallowed a little, and took a step closer. "Maybe…maybe that someone wants you just as much…" she whispered back as her other hand found its way to his chest.

"I hope."

And then they both closed the distance between them, and he caught her up in a kiss that threatened to knock him off his feet. It was the smartest thing he ever could have done…

But he hadn't done it. Instead, he'd kicked her out of his tower that night, he'd never confessed anything to her, he'd never kissed her, never held her, never felt the way her skin laid against his own…and now he never would.

The feeling of someone in his castle forced his eyes open and out of the daydreaming he'd been doing. He'd taken to doing that a lot since he arrived in his cell. After all, it wasn't like there was much more to do. He'd been here for perhaps a month. The items he'd stashed were right where he'd left them, but they were the only thing he had besides rancid food with worms in it they gave him. He was suddenly never more thankful for the fact that he didn't have to eat. With his magic dampened and the voices quieter, he did manage to doze a bit, but not in the little cot they'd provided for him. When he'd first arrived, he'd found a quiet alcove in the top of his cell, a place where the bars that held him here would recede if ever they were opened. It was a tiny place, but he liked hiding in it. It helped him to feel like he wasn't a caged animal at a place the Seer said was called a "zoo."

With nothing to do, he mostly spent his days there, daydreaming, thinking back on times in his life he wished he could have done something different. Belle and Baelfire came to him frequently, but others invaded as well. A man who lived as long as he had lived tended to collect regrets. But as the feeling of his castle being invaded reached into his bones and alerted him to something he could do nothing about, shutting his castle up was not one of those regrets. He'd planned for this, he reminded himself. He'd put a blood spell on everything he wanted and used Heart Magic to keep them out of the most sacred of places. No matter what people took from him, if it was important, it would come back. Though he did worry the few times he'd felt the Blue Fairy there. He couldn't possibly imagine what she was looking for? The Black Fairy's Wand, probably. He hoped it was all hidden well enough, it had magic on it, but the Blue Fairy would know how to counteract it if she wished. But he supposed, at this point, he'd find out on the other side.

Suddenly the Seer whispered in his head. He had to close his eyes again and concentrate, focus on the voice in order for it to come through loud and clear with the way his magic was weakened here. But after a few moments, her implication was clear. He had to get ready.

A moment later, he heard footsteps down the hall. One of his guards was talking to someone. He heard the door open, and the footsteps grew as the voices silenced. They were coming.

"Rumpelstiltskin! I have a question for you."

He shook his head. The guards here never asked him questions. They all kept away from him, and he'd come to the conclusion they were on strict orders not to talk to him, which meant that he wasn't the one who had a question. It was who was with him. There was a familiar scent in the air. The day to collect on a deal had finally arrived.

"No, you don't," he muttered, leaning over the alcove and gripping the bars so that he could do a controlled summersault back to the ground with the little magic he still possessed. The act always made them shiver a bit. It made him seem inhuman to them, and that pleased him. Anything to make his captors as uncomfortable as possible. "They do."

Right side up, he could see them, two figured beside the guards draped in dark cloaks, their heads lowered so that he couldn't see their faces. But the Seer put a familiar image into his head, a vision he'd had long ago of a visit from two familiar individuals when he'd made a promise that one of them would always tell the truth.

"Snow White and Prince Charming…" he laughed at their pathetic attempt to conceal their identities. They couldn't hide from him…he'd seen both of them and what they would make long before they were born. "You insult me. Step into the light and take off those ridiculous robes."

Brave as they were, they followed his commands, looked up into his eyes, and pulled their hoods back over their faces. Yes…this was the moment that he'd seen coming. They needed to make a deal…and he knew what he wanted. He was ready.

"That's much better."

"We've come to ask you about the…"

"Yes! Yes! I know why you're here!" he cried, interrupting David. He knew he had to make this deal with them, but he couldn't help but glare at David. After putting him in here, he still expected him to help. He'd pay for that later. "You want to know about the Queen's threat."

"Tell us what you know," the Queen demanded greedily.

"Ooh, tense, aren't we?" he commented, observing her. There were circles he could make out under her eyes, eyes which were filled with desperation. Someone hadn't been sleeping well, probably not since she'd dropped a baby down a portal to another world. She was the one who wanted to be here, not David. That was valuable information. "Fear not! For I can ease your mind. But…it's going to cost you something in return."

"No!" David shouted, grabbing her arm. "He's just a waste of time."

"What do you want?" she volunteered, pulling free of David and approaching him.

Perfect.

"Oh…the name of your unborn child?" he suggested as though he hadn't been planning on this moment for years.

"Absolutely not!"

"Deal!" Snow shouted over David.

Shocking…truly shocking…he'd thought it would have been more difficult than that.

"What do you know?" she pressed.

He smiled. Everything. He knew everything and far more than he'd ever tell her. But there was one vital thing she needed to know for all this to work.

"The Queen has created a powerful curse. And it's coming. Soon, you'll all be in a prison. Just like me! Only worse…your prison, all of our prisons, will be time. Time will stop, and we will be trapped, someplace horrible, where everything we hold dear, everything we love, will be ripped from us while we suffer for all eternity while the Queen celebrates, victorious at last! No more happy endings…"

"What can we do?"

He laughed. "We can't do anything."

"Who can?" she corrected, picking up on the only option he'd left her.

He smiled as he reached his hand out from between the bars toward the bulging stomach reaching back for him. His hands outside of the bars, he felt a stir of magic in the air, but it was coming off of the child she concealed in waves. A Savior. A very powerful Savior. His own good work. "That little thing, growing inside your belly…"

He felt a sting across his wrist as David stepped forward and slapped his hand away with his blade. "Next time, I cut it off."

Protective. Good. He was counting on that.

"Tsk tsk…" he clucked at him. "The infant is our only hope," he muttered to David before looking back at Snow. "Get the child to safety!" He stepped up onto the bar of the cell so he could look at her clearly and close his eyes. Using the extra magic he'd just taken, he let the Seer's power flow through him, remembering his original vision and all that had come to pass and all that had not so far. "Get the child to safety, and on its…twenty-eighth birthday, the child will return. The child will find you, and the final battle will begin!" he proclaimed, remembering the laugh his mother had given. His own laugh echoed over the cavern walls making him seem nearly as crazy as they wanted to believe he was. This Curse…it was only just the first part of something grander, something far more sinister at play. He had a theory on what that was, but he didn't care. After he had Baelfire back, it was none of his concern.

"We heard enough. We're leaving," David suddenly insisted, turning Snow White and walking her away. In his mind, the Dark Ones cried out, and the Seer hissed at him.

"Hey!" he cried after them. "No! We made a deal! I want her name! We had a deal! I need her name! I want her name!"

"Her?" David blanched over his shoulder at him. "It's a boy."

 _Girl!_ the Seer cried at him, casting a familiar image of the blonde-haired Swan in his head again as David walked on. Snow stayed still, absolutely still, and he remembered the day that she'd held the gypsy magic out over her hand and watched the pendulum swing. She knew! He needed that name! Her true name, not a trick. It was the only way his previous debt would be satisfied.

"Missy! Missy…you know I'm right. Tell me, what's her name?" The Queen stayed still for another moment. There was silence in the room as the guard stared at her, and David stared at her, and he stared at her. And then finally she turned.

"Emma," she answered. "Her name is Emma."

He smiled as King and Queen left the chamber with his guard. "Emma…"

He released the bars and laughed hysterically as he collapsed against the back wall of his chamber, the chamber where the parchment and quill and squid ink were stored. Trapped or not, the last pieces were falling into place. Finally! Well…the last pieces for him at least, theirs…that remained to be seen…

"Get the child to safety," he'd warned. How they were supposed to do that…he didn't know. Truly he didn't. And now…sitting in this space, Snow heavily pregnant in front of him and the Curse on the way, he finally knew why. The Seer knew. Whatever they were going to do to protect the child would lead the child away from this world and into the next world but beyond the reaches of the Curse. If he knew about the way to get there, he would have taken that route instead of this one.

Sometimes…sometimes he wondered how much of this was the Seer and how much of it was him. Sometimes he secretly thought that the Seer might have wanted this more than he wanted it. Sometimes he thought that she might have sought him out to be part of this, to make a name for herself, to guide him as the voice in his head. What were the chances she would have met him as a child and not seen? There wasn't one. She'd had more control over this ability than he ever had, but even he knew, when you saw the future, there was no such thing as coincidence. She was a clever little beast. Sometimes he thought that the Seer might have been the greatest Villian of them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there's a lot to unpack here. First and foremost, the beginning. There is an idea here in America that when we send a child their room on "timeout," or even when we send a criminal to prison, they are going to use that useless time they have to "think about what they've done." I'm not going to suggest whether or not those beliefs and that system actually works, but I took what's going to happen in these chapters with Rumple from that idea. For the first time in over a century, his magic is muted, the voices are either whispers or silent, and he has nothing to do...except think about what he's done. I didn't want him to think of it necessarily in a bad way because ultimately, this will get him back to his son, so he can't really regret what he's done. But, I loved the idea of having him think back onto individual moments and think, "how could this have played out differently. So, in these chapters, you'll see Rumple, you'll see a familiar scene we've already had, and then you'll see is "what if" scenario. Something will be different or changed from what actually happened. In the original scene we read here, he tells Belle to get out of his tower. Here, he gives in to his urge to ask her to stay and plays out a scenario he wouldn't regret that wouldn't change anything. Not all of these scenes feature Belle or even Bae, though, so stay tuned for some other exciting characters to play a role here. Any guesses?
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, RolfB, TeacupsandRoses, LovelyClaire, and Futuresunshine02, for your comments and very keen eyes! You caught on to my trick when I really didn't think anyone would. In the previous chapter, Rumple seals certain rooms in the castle with heart magic instead of blood magic, and it's stated he does this because he doesn't have Bae's blood, and this way, only someone who loves him can open it again. Some very clever commenters pointed out that, of course, Rumple has Bae's blood; he's his father. This is true. I caught that the first time through writing it, and that's why I added the "only someone who loves him can open it" part. I think Rumple is looking to avoid loopholes and make those rooms as secure as possible. And yes, with blood magic, he could seal them so that only someone in his line could open them. Well, that certainly includes Bae, but it could also include Peter Pan or the Black Fairy, who are still alive and might have access while he's gone. (Remember, when he found the globe with Cora and it showed him Neverland as Bae's location, he automatically thought it found his father instead of his son.) But, I put the "only someone who loves him" part in because subconsciously, I think he wants to know Bae has forgiven him if he comes back around. Whether he's alive or dead, I think Rumple equates "forgiven" with "love," and so in his mind, if Bae comes back and opens it, then that means he's forgiven/loves him. Clear as mud? We're down to the last few chapters, everyone! Hard to believe, right! So let's make these last ones count. Peace and Happy Reading!


	215. The Curse of Boredom

"You're different now," Bae commented from his seat, his skinned knee bleeding as he cleaned it. "You see it, don't you? You hurt people all the time."

Hurt people all the time? Was that really what it was? He thought he was being clever, that he was teaching lessons, and sparing them stupidity. But was this curse doing something else? Was he really hurting people? How could Baelfire think that after all the good he'd done? It was good. He was in control! Wasn't he?

"I created a truce in the Ogres War, Bae. I walked into the field of battle, and I made it stop. I led the children home. Surely, a man who's saved a thousand lives-"

"Is done!" Bae interrupted. "A man who's saved a thousand lives can be done with it. You can stop doing things."

Be done? Stop doing magic? Spinning gold and making deals, creating a name and persona for himself…could he really be done? When there was so much to do, so many advantages to living this way, could he ever put it all aside?

Tending to Bae's skin, he uncorked the bottle of green liquid to help it heal faster and was about to push a bit of his own magic into it, but didn't. He let it pour a bit over the wound on Bae's leg, and his son let out a howl he hardly heard. He marveled at the liquid before him, at the magic that the liquid held without his magic involved at all. With his magic Bae would heal, he could be healed in a flash, but with this, he would heal too. Maybe not in a second, but he'd be whole again.

Was Baelfire right? Could he be done? Was he different? Was it Baelfire who didn't understand the call of the magic inside of him, or was he the only one who saw it clearly? From where he stood, he could see no wrongdoing, and he knew from previous Dark Ones this was frequently the case. Many closest to the Dark One couldn't see it the way they did. But to go back to the way he was…to be human again and accept the magic around him in the world, to not have a hand in effecting it anymore…

"I don't know if I can give it up, Bae. I don't know if I'm strong enough without it," he reasoned, ignoring the voices in his head hissing at him to shut the hell up! Power. It was seductive. It made everything he was experiencing with Baelfire possible. It made their life better; at least he thought it did! And if he were to lose that power and go back to being a Spinner, remove the protection spells he'd cast on this house against Pan…how could he even consider such a thing. "I need more power so I can protect you."

"I wouldn't need protecting if you didn't have power!" Baelfire shouted at him.

He wouldn't need protecting if he didn't have power. Yes…yes, he was right. This…all this had happened because he'd been the Dark One. He'd been separated from Baelfire because he'd been the Dark One, and Bae had tried to protect himself. If he could just give it up, commit himself to working with his son, the one person he trusted, they might stand a chance at living the rest of their life out in peace. Bae would get married. He'd have grandchildren. He'd be able to see them every day and teach them how to spin. Their future would be so much more normal, so much brighter without magic in it! They'd be together. He couldn't let what lay in their future come to pass.

"You're right, Bae," he muttered, feeling suddenly strong.

Baelfire perked up. His eyes twinkled with hopefulness as he watched him. "I am?"

"Yes. You're right," he answered, sitting down beside him on the table. "This power that I have; it's only going to lead to death, to destruction, and it'll tear us apart. You're all I have left, son, and I don't want that. I don't want us to be apart."

"Papa, neither do I!" he sighed happily.

"Then let's fix it, Bae, you and me! We'll search the lands, all the realms if we have to, for a way to be free of this, to get me human again! Whatever it takes."

Suddenly Baelfire launched himself into his arms and held onto him tight. "I love you, Papa!" he murmured into his cloak.

"I love you too, son," he choked out, holding him even tighter. "For you…I'll do anything."

It was a nice fantasy, thinking that he might have given into Baelfire's requests if he could have seen what was coming, but it was also entirely untrue. That was what fantasies were. Lies. Things wished for. Because the truth was that he knew he'd changed. He'd changed from who he was all those years ago to who he was now. Even if he'd had the Seer in his head back then instead of just the Dark Ones, he wouldn't have given up his power. He'd have probably locked Bae in a tower, done everything in his power to keep him in this world. And he still would have failed. Somehow Bae would have escaped; somehow, he'd have gone. The future wasn't always set in stone, but he knew that somethings were simply fated to happen. That was one of them.

So was this.

Something was going on. Some kind of curse, he suspected. He could feel the static of magic in the air, but it was weak in this cell. Not weak enough to keep the magic from him, but he could feel it better when he stretched his hands outside of the bars of his cell. It was his curse that spared him from it. Weakened as he was, this was one of those immunities he'd kept as the Dark One. There was Light Magic at play. He wouldn't be affected. And he was grateful to be spared when he observed the consequences of it.

Everyone was singing.

He thought it was nothing at first. When he'd first noticed it, he'd heard one of his guards whistling when they delivered food, but then he'd noticed that they were actually singing while they talked. They were singing their conversation, and they were shocked by it, asking questions, wondering why this was happening! And to make matters worse, they'd danced too. They broke into some choreographed number as if they were on stage performing a show for royals somewhere. And then they looked at him, belted out a few lines about how they assumed it was a curse he'd placed on them, and tore out of the room, leaving him alone.

It was times like this that he wished he'd had his crystal ball or his cauldron or a spellbook or hell, he would take Belle's favorite book just to get his mind off of what was around him! When the guards left, and it went quiet again, he was ecstatic to live in his dreams. Until it all went quiet, and he suddenly sensed more magic-Dark Magic.

The door to his cell opened and closed, and he could see someone cross from the door to the opposite wall. They…glittered…sort of. A camouflage spell. One that was either poorly cast or cast by someone who didn't realize they were in a place where magic was dulled.

Regina.

"Show yourself, dearie!" he called out into the empty hall. "The Queen! The Queen, the Queen, the Queen!" he rejoiced as she revealed herself and stepped toward him. He wouldn't show it, but he'd never been so happy to see Cora's daughter. He was dying for something to break up the boredom. A visit from Regina wasn't exactly at the top of his list, but it would have to do.

"It's the Charmings," she drawled. "They cast a spell so everyone breaks into song."

"Mmm…" So that was what was going on. Someone had cast a spell, but he doubted it was the Charmings. They couldn't cast a thing. Though it was something like what they would do. Try and cast a spell that came out cheery instead of effective.

"They plan to use it to stop my curse...the curse you gave me."

"Ah…"

"Which means you're going to tell me how to stop them…now sing!"

Sing…not on his life. But it was adorable that she thought he could or would. He cleared his throat dramatically, then stepped back from the bars, circled in a deceptive step, flourished his arm…and burst into laughter as he grabbed the bars once more.

"Sorry, dearie," he cackled as her eyes widened. "Do you think the Dark One sings? I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty fork. And I didn't choose you to cast my Curse so you could come crying to me at every itty-bitty sign of trouble!" he criticized. He had to. Because she was here for answers which he didn't have, not from here, not with his limited magic and resources. He had to focus her without having all the information. Otherwise, she might catch on.

"Oh, please!" she drawled. "I'm the best student who ever walked through your door."

He smiled, recalling her sister, the sister she knew nothing of. Oh…had he mentioned there had been a choice? Slip of the tongue…

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

"And what's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means if you want to prove I chose the right witch, go fix it!"

She left in a huff, which he was pleased with even if he longed for her to stay longer so that she could tell him more about what was going on out there in the world. Instead, he grabbed the blank bit of parchment from its hiding place and looked it over as he lowered himself down to the floor of his cell. There was nothing on it, not yet…but he had every confidence it was coming.

He couldn't know everything, not from here. But he was hopeful that soon he wouldn't have to do either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This God-awful episode...sorry, I know some people were major fans of it; I just couldn't get behind it. I suppose what I'll always be grateful for is the fact that it didn't have much of an effect on Belle and Rumple, which means I didn't really have to write it. Belle singing a lullaby for Gideon and Rumple watching some guard break into song is about enough of that from me.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB and LovelyClaire, for your comments on yesterday's chapter. Today we have a familiar scene with Baelfire that has a couple of differences to it. Most notably, it ends a little differently than you might remember. And speaking of ending...we're on the last day of our last full week of posting! Next week is it! Four chapters left. We've almost made it! Peace and Happy Reading!


	216. Romancing Magic

Cora stared at the golden thread he'd spun in his hands and then finally grabbed it herself to examine. He watched as she rubbed it hard between her fingers as if searching for paint or some other trick to explain what she'd just seen. Finding none, she looked back up at him.

"You want to help me?"

"No," he answered honestly. "I want you to help me. And you will, because the future…is my gift. Well, in a manner of speaking." It was the first time since he'd inherited the ability that he actually thought of it that way, but he wasn't willing to relinquish this lead he had on his son now! And better yet, he had the feeling Cora was not willing to relinquish this hope she had that her life might not just be spared but improved. A fine bed over a cot of hay would be appealing to any man or woman…didn't he know.

"What could you possibly get from me?" Cora demanded with a roll of her eyes as if she thought the entire thing was ridiculous. If only she knew just how long he'd waited for this moment.

"Funny you should ask. Can you read?"

With a snap of his fingers, he crafted a contract, one that Cora was eager to take in her hands and begin skimming. The jolt she gave when she got to the fine print was small but still present. But the look she gave him as she held that contract in her hands…it was suspicious.

"My firstborn child?"

He nodded, moving around the little stool to stand beside her. "She is quite important."

"She?"

"Yes, I see the future. Weren't you listening?"

Cora's eyes drifted away from him, and she let out a small sigh, almost one of relief. He supposed it could be emotional for a woman to hear news of her first child and also painful for someone to suggest they would take it away, but fortunately for her, that wasn't what the contract stated and nor would he do such a thing. He wasn't an idiot. Now that he had something of a timeframe, there was too much to do in order to get himself together and find Baelfire. He didn't have time to raise a child. He'd leave that to her mother. All he wanted was the ability to be in her life and teach her magic, that wonderful, glorious power that quivered just beneath her mother's skin. But only if she accepted this deal!

"Anyway, I only get my payment if you live past tomorrow."

"You can turn all this straw into gold by morning?" Cora questioned.

He nodded. "And you can parade in front of the royals and demand the hand of the dimly lit Prince!" he pronounced. "And have them kneel before you. That's what you want, eh? You want them to kneel-"

"No."

"-I… No? What?" he questioned, turning back to her.

No? No, to what? No to his offer? Or no to his deal? It was a critical question! And he was more confused than ever because he couldn't understand the answer of "no" to either of those? No to one and she died, no to the other, and she'd never get the respect she deserved at had to undoubtedly crave after the life that she'd led. No? How could she turn him down?

"Teach me," she finally requested gently but with insistence. "Don't just do it. Teach me. Make it part of our deal."

Well…wasn't this an interesting twist of fate. It was his job as the Dark One to be the tempter, to be cunning and clever to suggest the best deal that would give him what he wanted while letting her feel like she had just won. There were no negotiations involved, and yet…

The power within her burned bright, like a beacon in the distance that issued warnings, it called to him now, tempting, desirable, and the skin on her shoulders didn't exactly hurt either. So, this was what it felt to be tempted, to feel want for someone other than his son. She was a worthy opponent. But he wasn't going to be fooled. He wasn't going to be caught up in her twice. He needed Regina, not Cora. Cora's knowledge of magic would only make the hold she'd have on her daughter stronger than his own, and he couldn't have that. Besides…she was nothing next to his Belle.

He let out another small laugh. "You are a spicy one, aren't you? But look around you, dearie, you're in no position to bargain. It's my way or no deal."

That was what he should have said to her. That was what he should have insisted upon when Cora asked for magic. He shouldn't have taught the bitch as much as he did, he shouldn't have had an affair with her, he shouldn't have ever come so close as to nearly give a piece of himself away that was reserved for his True Love.

That memory with Cora wasn't his best to look back on…but it was certainly one that he wished he'd seen through more than others. Especially because of the heartache she'd caused him but also because he was certain if he'd been allowed to have a hand in training Regina, she wouldn't have been as needy as she was today.

Another visit from the former Evil Queen. It figured. She went around acting as though she was powerful, but at the first sign of trouble, it was right back to him. She'd slipped in with dinner, but this time she hadn't used a camouflage spell, but rather one she'd fixed on the outside. She'd shifted her appearance into that of a mouse, started nibbling on an apple he'd taken a bit of that morning, and then tossed out of the cell.

He knew it was her and not an ordinary mouse because he could smell magic on her, powerful Dark Magic like he hadn't been in the room with for years but would always recognize. It was the same magical signature that his Curse reeked of. He could feel it giving him power, overcoming the magic of the mines. He could leave if he wanted to with that magic. He could end this torment and go back to his castle. Live out these days before the Curse in comfort. Oh, how he longed for the comfort of home! Of anything beyond this! But the magic he had was here for another purpose. He had to store it away.

When the guard left, it was just the pair of them in the cell, but he waited until he heard the footsteps fade farther down the hall. "It's just us, dearie," he muttered. "You can show yourself."

In a cloud of black magic, she was suddenly standing before him again. She moved her neck to one side, excising the last of the uncomfortable magic before she stepped forward.

"That Curse you gave me," she explained, holding the scroll he hadn't been in the same room with for years up in front of him. "It's not working."

And somehow, that made him angrier than anything inside this cage. She had all she needed to cast that Curse; why wasn't she doing it?! What was taking her so fucking long to do it! Oh…he knew, or at least he could take a guess. But with any luck…he could light a fire under her and make it so that she finally moved!

"Oh, so worried," he smiled, tapping his fingers together. "So, so worried. Like Snow and her lovely new husband."

"What?!"

"They paid me a visit, as well," he smiled, stepping up to the bars. "They were very anxious…about you and the Curse."

"What'd you tell them?!" she roared, stepping up to the bars.

"The truth! That nothing can stop the Darkness!" he announced with a flourish before sneering down at her again. "Except, of course, their unborn child." Regina balked, her eyes opened wider, and he felt her heartbeat quicken. Nothing like the promise of losing everything to force the little witch to get a move on it. "You see, no matter how powerful, all curses can be broken. Their child is the key. Of course, the Curse has to be enacted first."

"Tell me what I did wrong."

"For that, there's a price."

"What do you want?"

"Simple," he spat. Being in here had given him time to think, time alone in his own head as he hadn't had for over a century, and he knew what he wanted from it. He never wanted this again. He wanted resources, and he wanted power in any way that he could get it! Fortunately, after a talk with a werewolf about this new place they were going to, he knew how he needed to get it. In a World Without Magic, there were two ways to get what he wanted. The first was money. But the second was to have power over the one who had power in the first place. And his student was suddenly desperate enough that he thought she might give it. "In this new land, I want comfort. I want a good life."

"Fine. You'll have an estate. Be rich."

"I wasn't finished!" he snapped. "There's more!"

"There always is with you," Regina sneered, shaking her head. He ignored her comments and climbed the bars, standing high above her for his final most important request.

"In this new land, should I ever come to you for any reason, you must heed my every request. You must do whatever I say. So long as I say…' please'!" he shrieked, laughing at her, letting her think he was going mad because sometimes he felt like he was. But if she thought he was going mad...the request would seem less harmful than it actually was, less suspicious.

She sighed without interest, unaware of what she was about to give away. The realm may not have magic in it now, but one day it would; the Curse would bring its own magic with it. Not much, not until he'd finally enacted a spell to bring it into that land, but it would be there. And he wanted to use as much of it as he could. "You do realize that should I succeed, you won't remember any of this."

"Oh, well, then...what's the harm?"

"Deal."

He snorted as he backed away from the bars. It was done. All he needed to do was give her answers, and he'd be ready for the new world. He prayed it would come soon.

"What must I do to enact this Curse?" Regina questioned.

He couldn't be entirely positive where she'd gone wrong but seeing as how she was still standing there, without tears in her eyes, he could think of one significant thing she'd either skipped over entirely or chosen to half-ass out of love. "You need to sacrifice a heart," he instructed.

"I sacrificed my prized steed," she interrupted.

He flew at her. Launched himself at the bars of his cage, reached through and grabbed her by the neck, taking in the wonderful sensation of Dark Magic flowing from the Curse, into her, and now into him. Oh, it was just as seductive as the first day he'd touched it. It deserved the finest of everything to come to fruition! If she thought that her horse would do…she clearly had no idea how to romance magic.

"A horse?" he growled, letting the magic flow into him. "This is The Curse to End All Curses. You think a horse is going to do? Great power requires great sacrifice. The heart you need must come from something far more precious."

He'd attacked her, but her heartbeat evened out as she listened to him…but now it was pounding again, pulsing so wildly he could feel it in her neck. "Tell me what will suffice," she ordered with a calm voice.

He grinned, looked her in the eye, and whispered, "The heart of the thing you love most."

She snatched him by the wrist at his declaration and pulled herself free. "What I love most died because of Snow White."

That was true…years ago! Now she was all grown up, and there was one she loved even more, one who had shown her loyalty beyond measure despite what she had become. He smiled, recalling the vision of her looking at her father through the bars of her own cell, "the one I love most." That was where she'd gone wrong. Love made people truly blind.

"Ooh. Is there no one else you truly love?" he asked, dragging the back of his fingers over her perfect cheek. He'd done everything that he had to do to get her ready, but this was the final test he couldn't pass for her because he hadn't! He'd had the Curse in his grasp, and he'd had someone he loved in the dungeons! He'd let her go, let her die because he wasn't strong enough to kill her himself. Regina had to be! She had to want it more than she wanted the man she loved. He was helpless to do anything else but wait.

"This curse isn't going to be easy. Vengeance never is, dearie. You have to ask yourself the simple question. How far are you willing to go?"

The Evil Queen stepped forward so that she put her own face between the bars of his cell. "As far as it takes," she whispered. Good.

"Then please don't waste everyone's time and just do it," he begged. "You know what you love. Now go kill it."

Without another word, she turned, transformed herself back into a mouse, and walked out of the cell, leaving him behind. She'd taken the Dark Curse and all the magic it offered with her, but his skin still hummed with it. Now! He had to do it now! Before he gave in and used that magic to leave before he lost his opportunity.

He flew to the wall where the parchment was and held it between his hands, and then he transferred it. He used every ounce of energy and magic he had to push all the magic the Dark Curse had given him into that parchment until it glowed with blackness and burned his hands. He dropped it in the dirt with a shock when it ended. Behind him, he could hear guards walking in the outer corridor. He didn't know what time it was, but he wasn't going to take any risks. He scooped up the burning parchment, took out the magical quill and the squid ink, and retreated to his little alcove. He dipped the quill into the ink, and it provided enough power for the quill to absorb the energy of the Curse and transfer it into him as he wrote one word over and over and over again.

"Emma."

It was his trigger word. Now, when the day came that he heard that word again, it would be in the other world. He would wake. He would help her break the Curse he'd worked so hard to create. Much to Regina's displeasure, he'd remember the deal they'd just made, and he would be sure to use it.

He wrote the name until there was no longer any more space left on the paper, and power buzzed through him, tied him to the curse and now to this cell. The magic spent, there was no leaving now. He had only to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was conscientious about which scenes I used for his "what-ifs." I wanted scenes that, if he played them out entirely, would still get him back to Baelfire in the end. With this scene, we see him refusing perhaps the one relationship he has come to regret most of all thus far...Cora. Instead of agreeing to teach her magic, he holds firm in his deal. With little choice, Cora would have given in. He'd have been in Regina's life, and so would Cora, but it would have been a different Cora, one whose power never grew enough to threaten his own. And who knows, in that scenario, maybe it would have been Danial she'd have had to kill. Ah...the what if...
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, MissBansheeAbby, and LovelyClaire, for your comments on the last chapter. I hope you'll enjoy the magic I'm trying to work on Rumple's "trigger." That magic was never fully explained, so I did my best with trying to work with it. I hope it all makes sense. We're down to three more chapters! It's not long now. Peace and Happy Reading!


	217. At the Beginning

"Magic! It's beautiful! Can you teach me?!"

"Not. So. Fast!" he taunted, pulling the torch from Zelena's grip as she lunged for it. "I've a few questions of my own. First and foremost…who are you?" he asked, pointing at her.

She took a step back, her face dropping and wrinkling as a child's might after they were denied a toy they wanted and instead given a test for it.

"I've told you," she shrugged. "I'm Zelena, the first-born daughter of Cora."

"Yes, yes, you've covered that, now I need to know the rest."

"The rest? What more do you need to know?"

He didn't roll his eyes, though he wanted to, desperately. But with her standing there looking confused and scared all at once and magic flowing freely through her, he didn't think that the smartest course of action. Wherever she'd been, this girl clearly had little access to education.

"Let's start with the basics," he suggested bringing the light forward once more and making her squint. "If you're the firstborn of Cora, then why does everyone believe that her firstborn, and only child, resides in the castle with the King? Where have you been?"

The girl deflated visibly. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked down at her feet. Gone was the pride she had when she announced that she was a child of Cora. What was left, an unassuming, but still very powerful, frightened little girl.

"Over the rainbow…" she shrugged.

"Precious, but I'm going to need you to be more specific."

"Oz."

"Oz…" he echoed.

"Yes…my father only just told me that I wasn't theirs, you see. He is a woodcutter and a drunk there. My mother died years ago, but I believed they were my real parents until he just…burst out that I wasn't theirs! They found me."

"And how was that? How did you get from here…all the way to Oz?"

"I'm…I'm not sure. I was only a baby, and my father said it was a tornado, but…but I had to know myself, so I went to see the Wizard. I wanted to be here. I wanted to know all about-"

"Ah-ah-ah!" he cut off, shoving a waving finger in her face because he knew that she was once more leading up to something that he wasn't ready for her to go. How she'd gotten to him; that was the most important part of all this. "Still my turn."

"Well…when do I get my turn?!" she pouted, showing her immature, childish nature so clearly.

"When I decide it's your turn," he answered with the authority of a parent she so desperately needed. "How did you get from Oz to here?"

"The Wizard sent me. He showed me a vision of a woman leaving me in the woods, my real mother. He said her name was Cora, and then I saw you teaching Regina, and I saw how she was struggling, and I knew you had the wrong student! It's me you should be teaching! I have magic! And he said that here it's not considered evil. Here, magic is a gift, and you are a great Wizard! You could teach me! Because I'm Cora's daughter, don't you see just like Regina! And you…you knew my mother? You knew Cora? How? What was she like?"

He desperately wanted more details, but at the same time, he recognized the resilience in Zelena's eyes. The girl was powerful. Truly powerful. He could sense it just below her skin, growing more and more frantic just as she grew more and more frantic. She resembled Cora. If not physically, then through her power. But she had none of her mother's calm conniving demeanor. Who was her father, he wondered. Perhaps she'd inherited that from him.

"I knew your mother," he confirmed, taking a step forward to walk with the girl a bit. If she didn't work off some of the energy she had, then it could be disastrous for him. He should send her back, have faith in the Seer. Why hadn't he just sent her back then?! "I was the one who taught Cora magic. We spent much time together before she married her prince and gave birth to your sister, Regina."

"And…Cora never mentioned me?" she asked, wringing her hands in front of her.

"A firstborn daughter? I think that's something I would remember. Now tell me dearie…how exactly did you get from there…to here," he questioned, going back to the important question. Zelena wasn't the one he wanted. He knew that now. She'd been a distraction, and if he'd bothered to ask the question of how she got there in the first place, then it would have taken a hell of a lot less time rather than what had actually happened. It would have spared him more crazy than even he could handle.

"These shoes," she answered, lifting her skirts so he could see them. "The wizard gave them to me. They take me realm to realm."

That was where he'd gone wrong with Zelena. He'd indulged her, feared her insanity so much that he hadn't pushed her when he should have. If he had, she might have shown him the shoes earlier. He might have attacked the untrained witch, killed her, stolen those shoes off of her feet, and transformed them into lovely boots that he could wear. Then it would have been three clicks of his heels, and he would have been with Baelfire right now.

But naturally, he hadn't done that. Naturally, he'd been too patient with her, too indulging. Naturally, he'd never gotten his hands on those shoes, and now here he was, the Curse cast…waiting, waiting, waiting.

He felt something. Magic. Dark Magic. Strong and powerful. It was just a breeze, barely a ripple. Something precursory to prepare the land. Its heart was a distance away, but he could feel it. It was familiar. It was familiar in the most wonderful way!

The Curse…it lived. Regina had done it.

He laughed. He let out a peal of laughter that was only just the beginning of his laughter. What a strange thing…he'd spent so long focusing on how to get the Curse here he'd never thought of what he'd do once it was done. Laughter…it wasn't what he would have bet on, but it was the only thing he could do that fit. What else could he do when the greatest plan he'd ever had just succeeded.

And the sensation of it as it moved through the air of the cell, powerful enough to charge it even through all their precautions and fairy magic...it was euphoria. It allowed power to course through him again. He moved fast, stalking the walls of his cage, enjoying the feeling of magic flowing freely through him while he could. It was enough to escape should he wish, but there was no point in that. Soon it would be done. Soon it would all be over, and he'd have everything he ever wanted.

Outside he heard a guard enter the mines, probably his breakfast, but he had no interest in eating. Not now. There was no point! And he was too busy laughing.

"What is this? Do you know what he can do with this? Do you want to let him out?!"

He laughed. Freedom was in his future. Prison was in their own, and they had no idea!

"Your carelessness could get us killed. Drop it and be gone!"

Be gone. Oh, he couldn't wait to be gone! For them all to be gone! After spending every single moment of the last hundred years plotting and planning and making it his business to know everything, he couldn't wait to spend the next twenty-eight years in quiet peace and comfort before getting back to work!

"What's he laughing about?" someone asked, making him beam. He did so love to drive them nearly as crazy as he felt sometimes.

"Nothing. He's been at it for two days now."

Two days?! Oh, he'd hardly noticed the days and nights passing. He knew it would take a while for the Curse to envelop the entire land, but that long?! How remarkable! There was a sound down below, and the guard opened the little trap that they'd been shoving his worm invested food through.

Fun.

He wanted to celebrate and have some fun! There was so little of it in his life! He pulled on the magic that the Dark Curse was permeating into the air and leaped forward. He grabbed the soldier by the wrist. The boy froze, his body instantly trembling at the contact as he looked at him in fear.

"It has begun!" he declared to him as an explanation.

The guard didn't stay long enough to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Rumple. Ironic how much easier everything would be for him in the future if he'd just killed Zelena and taken the shoes. This is actually, to me, the saddest of the "what-if" moments because it's such a missed opportunity. Yes, with the others, things would certainly be different. But if this one had come true, if he'd acted differently at this moment, just think how drastically the rest of the story would change! But of course, he doesn't even know the kind of threat Zelena is, not at this moment. I imagine later he just might come to regret this "what-if" even more than he does now.
> 
> Thank you, RolfB, Alarda, and LovelyClaire, for your lovely comments on the last chapter. The rest of this scene, you may or may not recognize. It was a deleted scene from the first season. I think I heard somewhere that this was supposed to be the scene that actually opened the entire series, but it was deemed too dark and too "Rumple-focused," so they just nixed it altogether. Not a bad scene, just not a lot taking place. It was fun to use it and bring a new interpretation to it since we never really see Rumple act this manic again. Peace and Happy Reading!


	218. The Last Visitor

"Oh, you're back already! Good! Good thing!" he piqued, his voice involuntarily going up a few octaves more than he'd meant to. That had nothing to do with his crafted persona and everything to do with the pounding in his heart. He turned away and back to the wheel; with any luck, she'd go back to read, and it would just be an ordinary night. "I'm, uh…I'm nearly out of straw," he swallowed nervously again.

How was it she had the power to take a centuries-old, cursed Dark One and make him just as nervous as an average fourteen-year-old boy?!

"Mmm," she responded, hurrying over to him and setting the basket down on the platform. "Come on…you're happy I'm back!" she smiled, meeting his gaze through the wheel.

She knew. Of course, she knew. She always knew him better than anyone ever had. She was a highly perceptive woman. Beautiful and smart. How could he ever dream of casting her aside? How could he not be happy to see her?

"I'm pleased you've returned," he found himself admitting, wishing those were the words he'd actually said. There was no mistaking it now. She was blushing, a beautiful rose color that complimented her smile perfectly.

Oh, she needed to sit down. Now! He waited with bated breath for her to round his back as he knew she would because this was the moment he'd played over and over again in his head more than any others with her. He didn't even bother to try and spin because he knew he wouldn't be able to focus the moment he felt her hands on his shoulders, her breath on his neck, and her eyes on him. He knew it was no use. He couldn't focus if he'd tried, not with her heart humming the way it was, alive, and so close to his own.

"And, uh, you promised me a story," she whispered behind him.

He glanced up at her. "Did I?" Had he? He couldn't remember. His brain wasn't moving as fast as it normally was in this place. Her distinct scent, the smell of roses and lemons and fire, was overwhelming the grain and wood. He'd forgotten she smelled of lemons…

She made a sound that confirmed he had made her that deal, then reached down and boldly plucked the string he held from his hands. She made herself comfortable next to him, too close, perhaps. She sorted her skirts around her, and he wondered how he'd never known a human body could fit there so perfectly before. Then, before he could move or step out of the space and away from her, she did the unthinkable. She reached forward and put her hand against his leg. Delicate, beautiful, slightly shaking itself.

She sighed suddenly and shook her head, her hand steading. "Tell me about your son."

His stomach dropped. The words were sobering or would have been if they didn't make him so uncomfortable. That was the story he'd promised her. He remembered now. If she returned from town, he would tell her about himself. He'd made a mistake. He'd made that mistake before, but he knew this wouldn't be one. He could tell her, she'd understand, he just knew she would! He wanted to tell her, just like he had for the longest time, but he just couldn't put the necessary words together. But they'd had a deal…

"I…" he tapped his fingers together, suddenly feeling nervous under her gaze, and then did what he should have done all along. His hand sought her own. It covered the one that she'd placed on his leg and trembled with her. Could she read his mind? See his thoughts? Know the loop he would play this conversation on in his mind for the next few years to come? Could he break it? Oh, how he wished he could.

"I lost him," he admitted, stroking the back of her hand to calm her. "There's nothing more to tell really…"

He held his breath, wondering if she'd question further, waiting for her to respond, wanting her to question further so that he could answer her. She wouldn't be like the others who knew. She wouldn't take advantage of him or the information. He just knew it.

"And since then," she went on, the grip she had on his leg loosened, and she turned her hand over, allowing her fingers to skim over the palm of his hand, sending sparks of magic into his brain, "you've loved no one, and no one has loved you."

No. It wasn't true. Not anymore. It had been at one time, but now he knew he did love someone beyond his son. And she loved him. No matter what he'd done, she loved him. That was something to hold onto.

He found himself leaning forward, closer to her. He felt his heart flutter, his stomach twist as he stared into her eyes. He'd never felt this way about anyone.

"Why did you come back?" he asked, his voice no more a serious whisper between the two of them.

"I wasn't going to," she whispered back, looking him over. "But, then…I had a talk with someone and…she changed my mind, but…but not the way I felt. I knew that even before I'd left here. Can you trust me? Do you?"

"Can you trust me? After all, I've done to push you away? Would you?" he asked back.

Her eyes filled with tears as she nodded. And suddenly the world seemed to slow around them as she moved closer, so close he could feel her breath upon his cheek and yet…she wasn't close enough!

Before his mind could form a coherent thought, his eyes closed, and he moved forward to let her do what he'd wanted to for months now.

They kissed.

And it felt indescribable. It was just a kiss, just her lips brushing against his. But it was everything he remembered it had been, something different than he'd ever experience. Less abrasive than Cora's, more meaningful than Milah's, and enough to make him completely and utterly regret the rampage that had followed. A pure, genuine, heartfelt kiss. When he realized he was kissing her back, he wanted to change it. He'd never felt like he was melting before, but he felt that way now. He felt dizzy, his throat dry, his palms sweaty. He felt more human than he'd felt in a long time. Since before Bae left.

It was as better than he'd imagined it would be. It made him feel settled in a way that he hadn't expected, and the moment they'd pulled away from each other, his hands sought her waist. He wanted to kiss her again, to hold her close as he'd dreamed about, and descend into euphoria with her shamelessly. He didn't want to be apart from her for the rest of his life.

"Oh, what's happening to me," he muttered, astounded at all the feelings and sensations working their way from his mouth through his body.

Her hands were at his neck, against his cheeks, intimately brushing away hair, as he opened his eyes and struggled to find her face. Why did the room seem duller next to her all a sudden? Why was he struggling to see in the dark next to her radiant light?

"Kiss me again. It's working!" she exclaimed.

"What is?"

She smiled. "All curses can be broken," she whispered as an explanation. Oh yes…all curses could be broken. And how he wanted his curse to be broken. The curse that his life was the curse that it had been. So he drew her closer, he moved closer to her. He kissed her again. A slow ache returned to his ankle, a familiar friend. His strength, his power seeped out of his very pores. The tingle he wasn't aware that he felt every second since taking on his curse slowly left his body as his nose filled with a scent that wasn't his own. It was hers. It belonged to Belle, and he'd be content all the days of his life to smell nothing but that.

"Oh, Belle," he whispered when she stood and straddled his lap. He looked up into her eyes. They weren't as clear as they had been while he'd had his powers. But it was gorgeous in the low light of the fireplace. Low light. He hadn't seen lowlight in over one hundred years. And never, never, had he seen anything as beautiful as she was. "I love you," he whispered.

Her smile grew, it spread across her face so that it touched every part of her, her eyes smiled, her forehead participated, even her nose seemed happier. "And I love you, Rumpelstiltskin."

"I want to tell you everything."

"Tell me. I want to help."

So he told her everything. It helped.

He could have relished in that false memory for as long as he lived. He could have relaxed in it and pretended it was the truth for eons just to bask in her a little bit longer than he had in reality.

But something stirred him from his stupor far earlier than he would have liked it too.

This wasn't a simple spell, one that could be said and done in a snap. It was the greatest Curse of them all. It was going to take some time to cover the land. From a single source, the cloud would grow and double and double and double until it spread everywhere and did its work. It was so powerful it would leak into other Realms if that's what Regina wanted. It wouldn't affect those realms as it did this one, devastating the land by tearing it to pieces, but it would freeze time and enable her to pull forth individuals if she wanted. Though…he couldn't imagine who she would want to pull when she was so stuck on those in this land.

He could feel her there. He could feel her easier than ever. The Curse was growing. It was close, so close he could taste it! The magic in the air was overwhelming enough that he could leave if he truly wanted to. But he didn't; there was no point. He had no one that he wanted to see, no one to kiss good-bye. And apparently, neither did the little mouse who had snuck uselessly into the mines to see him.

"I'm waiting!" he cried, pressing his face to the bars as the Evil Queen materialized outside his cage with her back to him. She still wasn't thinking long term and probably never would. She'd snuck in here as if afraid she'd be caught, but she'd just cast the most powerful Curse in all the realms. Who was going to catch her?! Besides…all the guards had abandoned their jobs to go to their own families. They were the ones who had no one except each other, a fine bit of irony that was. "What took you so long?"

"You know what took so long," she grinned, turning to face him. She grinned…but something was missing from that grin. Satisfaction. The Curse was complete, but she wasn't satisfied. It was all part of the cost of the magic she'd unleashed…she never would be satisfied.

"Oh, yes. The Curse. You did it."

"That's right. I did it. And I wanted you to know it before you, like all the other pathetic denizens of this wretched land, forgets everything."

He smiled and leaned up on the bars. "How did it feel?"

"Watching the curse cloud form? Felt like victory."

"No!" he laughed. "How did you feel to kill the thing you love most? Ripping the heart out of your father?" she winced, her guard falling for just a second before she got it back in place. "How did that feel?"

"It was the price of the Curse," she dismissed. "How it felt doesn't matter. He would have understood. I took my life back. I had to. I won."

Oh, the poor foolish child. And to think she'd ever had dreams she might one day be a greater sorcerer than he when she didn't even understand the difference in a curse between "sacrifice" and "price."

"And yet, here you are. Feeling the need to gloat. Something's missing, isn't it, dearie?"

"Not at all," she smiled. They were dancing, moving back and forth between the bars. He was moving, leading, she was following, looking him in the eye, getting up close in his face, seeking satisfaction that no one would ever be able to give her, not as long as her curse reigned supreme. "I have everything I want. Nothing can stop me now."

Nothing. He'd told her there was something the last time she'd visited, and yet she still wasn't listening—poor girl. The irony was that if she'd actually cast the Curse when he'd first given it to her, then things would be different. Perhaps he should be grateful for her stubbornness.

"Not quite."

"What does that mean?"

"The savior, the child of Snow White and Prince Charming."

Regina sighed and rolled her eyes at his remark as if it was nothing.

"She can stop you," he reminded her. "She can break the Curse."

"Well, looks like getting rid of a baby made my to-do list."

Stubbornness, again. He had nothing to fear. Everything the Seer had ever said would come to pass had come to pass. He trusted she'd make it out.

"Of course, it did. But even if you succeed with that, you have an even bigger problem!"

She eyed him with curiosity. Curiosity he was all too happy to smother. Oh, the Seer, that blessed woman, put vision after vision of Regina in his head at just the right time.

_Regina-a straight plain haircut in smart clothes that lacked the sex appeal she had now._

_"Gold, I need help."_

_"I need your help."_

_"Help me."_

_"There's something I want."_

_"Help us, Gold."_

"Help", "Help", "Help". Vision after vision, time after time. Her clothes changed, her hair varied slightly in each, but the meaning was clear…this wasn't to end here.

"Now, there's a hole in your heart, and someday you will come to me to fill it."

She shook her head and looked him over with disgust. "You overestimate your powers of foresight," she breathed before turning from him.

"And you underestimate the price of what you've done!" he cried after her. "You shall see! You will come to me! There is more you need! Oh!" he rang out in a sing-song voice.

Regina's anger flared as she turned to him, her cloak billowing out around her. "Your taunts will get you nowhere! I know you too well. You want to make another deal. Well, I won't."

"A deal?" he laughed. "You already promised me a good life in this new land. What more than I want from you?"

"Oh, to be let out of this cage," she guessed, looking around. "To be let out of our last deal. To escape the curse."

"But why would I desire that, dearie? I'm exactly where I want to be." Regina's eyes widened as she reeled back.

"You planned this?" she muttered.

"How could I?" he laughed. "After all…I overestimate my power of foresight."

"What have you done?!" she cried as he turned away from her. "Tell me!" she screamed as he took a seat on the opposite wall and crossed one leg over the other, waiting patiently for the inevitable. Regina let her hands slam into the bars, let her face press against them in desperation, and he smiled. Now it was she in the cage. "I have something of yours!" Regina finally cried. "Something precious, something you'll want more than whatever secrets you hold dear, tell me, and I'll return it to you."

No. That was unlikely. Baelfire was in another world, Belle was dead, thanks to Regina, and everything else he needed or wanted would be coming back to him as soon as the curse was complete.

"There's nothing you have I want dearie…perhaps I just want to stop you from reaching the child before she escapes you," he smiled sinisterly. "Though...bit of advice, dearie...remember...if the Savior is killed...your Curse will be finished before it even begins."

"Then I'll take her from her parents and make sure she never knows who she is!"

"Well, then...I guess you better hurry. I can feel the magic brewing outside this place. I imagine you don't have long before it hits."

Regina's nose flared, her eyes went wide and wild. And then she was gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot more fun writing this chapter than I thought I would. I got to bring a lot of things into play here. First, of course, the scene with Belle replays, and it's not just one thing different, but there are a few places he deviates from the original. I did like writing it this way because there's a scene in Moments (forgive me, I can't remember if it's in the published version or Exiled) where they talk about how if he didn't send her away, then they wouldn't have been able to keep their hands off one another, eventually, she'd have worn him down, and his curse would have broken. He responds in that scene with "it might have been worth it." I don't think he would wish for that all the time, but even in Storybrooke, I think there are times that he would think about that alternative. There are times I think he would wonder if just staying with her and letting Baelfire live out his life without him would have been the better option. And then, of course, you have the Evil Queen, all her groveling, dissatisfied answers, and then, her offer. You all know what she would have offered him, right? She always said she kept Belle as a valuable chess piece, but we never saw her make the play. I imaged here would be a good place for it. Her father has died, there's lots of magic in the air, she feels sort of let down, but also feels nervous about it coming to pass...why not offer Belle. Of course, the irony in that is that he might have made a trade for that. He might have taken her up on that offer...if he knew it was Belle she was offering. Regina's done too good a job convincing him that he's alone. He doesn't even think about the possibility and so Belle slips through his fingers just like that.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you RolfB, Alarda, and Lovelyclaire for your comments on the last chapter! So very much appreciated! One more chapter left to go, and we're at our end. Can you believe it?! What a wild ride! And as always I'm incredibly grateful for all of you who have been willing to ride this out with me! So now, you are ready, let's wrap this up! Peace and Happy Reading!


	219. It Ends

Waiting for the Curse to take him felt like being on a ship that was slowly sinking with no hope of rescue. It felt like what he imagined it must be like to age and die. He'd experienced that once in his life, but it was so long ago that for the life of him he couldn't remember what time, what aging and dying, actually felt like. But he remembered the day he felt like his soul had gone away. He remembered the one choice he'd made that had led him to this place. He remembered all too easily the choice he could have made that would have led back to aging and dying, but also kept him at his son's side.

"Where are we going, boy? What kind of world is this we're going to? What kind of world is without magic?" he'd asked of his son, his first mistake. Baelfire always had eyes for the right thing, he should have trusted him with that even at his tender age and not asked questions at all.

"A better one," Bae announced, abruptly turning to meet him and opening his hand.

And there it was. There was the answer, a reminder of an answer he'd once had long ago to that had failed him. For there in his son's fingers he saw the unmistakable shape of a bean. A clear, magic bean. A feeling of fear he'd held inside of him ever since he'd seen it roared through his chest.

He'd been on his end of one of those beans before and it only held destruction for the family he'd known! But this one, it was the saving grace Baelfire had searched for, it was the solution to the deal they'd made. He'd be normal, human in a World Without Magic. He should have been happy to go.

Before he could say anything, Bae threw the bean at the ground. There was a pause, but then just as it had when he was a child a swirling vortex of green opened up before him, loud and strong and just as intimidating as it had been when he was a child.

He grabbed hold of Baelfire and drew him backward away from the peril as the world around him shook and the sound of rushing water and crashing waves filled his ears.

"My gods, boy! It's like a tornado!" he cried.

"We have to go through it!"

"No, no! I don't think I can!" He couldn't do this! Not again!

"We must!" Bae screamed back easily. "It's the only way!" Bae reached for his hand and began to pull him forward, he was so afraid he was easy to drag along.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" he exclaimed as they stepped closer. He pulled Bae back from the brink; another mistake. "It's a trick! It'll tear us apart!"

"It's not! It'll be okay! I promise!" There was too much going on to make sense of what happened. There was the feeling of Bae tugging on his hand, pulling him toward the vortex, there was the sound of wind, the crashing of trees and branches and suddenly his body lurched forward as Bae lost his footing.

"Papa!" Bae cried. Instinct forced him to hold tighter to his son's hand. He looked only to the face of his boy clinging to him for dear life…or was he? Baelfire wasn't holding on to this life, only to him. Just has he had ever since he was born. "We have to go through! What are you doing?"

His next mistake. He was securing them both. He removed the dagger from its hiding place and thrust it into the ground, anchoring himself in this realm! In their world! It allowed him to pull the pair of them up and away from the portal that seemed desperate to swallow them both!

"Papa! It won't stay open long! Let go!"

"I can't! I can't!" he realized, with agonizing fear that he couldn't hold both of them. Bae wasn't fighting against the portal as he was, and his hand didn't hold as tight to his own. He was slipping. He was letting it happen! He couldn't! But he did. Bae released his hand and it was only his quick action that he caught him by the sleeve. If he held on like this, he wasn't likely to be able to hold both Bae and the dagger! It was either let go of Baelfire and spend the next hundred years creating a Curse to get back to him, or let go of the dagger, relinquish his power and live out the rest of his life in a land that had no magic where maybe, just maybe, the Dark One Curse might die away if he did.

"Papa, please! It's the only way we can be together!"

His hand slipped a little more as the vortex pulled the fabric of Bae's sleeve further out of his reach. His hand hurt from how tight he was holding on to it. And he realized that everything Bae had said was true. It was the only way that they could be together. And he would do anything to be with his son.

"You're right!" he cried out to his son and then, with more strength than he knew he had, he let go of the dagger and slid into the portal with his boy's hand in his own, knowing that wherever they went, at least they'd be together.

_"The Savior…"_

As the winds in the tunnel began to pick up the Seer roared to life in his mind right along with all the other Dark Ones who had been silent ever since he'd been in these tunnels. The Curse was changing this world, altering it, destroying magic that had always been here. This was part of it. As the magic ripped through his cell he could feel the power come back to him. The Dark Ones were angry, chastising him, criticizing him for what he'd done and how he'd changed the course of their history. A World Without Magic bound them, but he would be free, free to be with Baelfire. And that, he hoped, was why the Seer sounded so optimistic in his ear.

 _"The Savior has escaped!"_ she reported.

Before his eyes, the cell and the wind and the darkness faded around him into a vision, maybe his last for a very long time.

_Somewhere, not to far in the past, Snow White lay on a bed, crying out in pain, her legs spread in childbirth._

The vision shifted.

_Snow and David, the baby in her arms before she tearfully handed her over to her husband. "We have to give her her best chance," the Queen whispered before kissing her on the head. "Good-bye, Emma."_

_She kissed David, who then took the child, drew his sword, and left Snow crying in the room. His sword came in handy. As he raced down a hall to a room Regina's guards found them. He hadn't held the witch off long enough and she'd managed to get there. But David fought off the guards, one handed and one at a time, Emma snuggled safe against his chest until he escaped into a child's room, a nursery for Emma…one that would never be used._

_And there in the center of the room was something that didn't belong. It was a wardrobe, one made from a tree that glowed and shimmered with magic only he could see._

_Huffing and puffing David set the child down inside. "Find us," he whispered hopefully before shutting her inside. Again, the magic of the tree worked, it shimmered and glittered with Light Magic, powerful Light Magic that he'd never seen before._

_And then the Queen's guard burst into the room, following the pair. David was injured, fatally it seemed as he slid to the nursery floor and the guards beat the doors to the tree open to reveal…_

_Nothing. The baby was gone. Emma was safe._

_"Now,"_ the Seer whispered. He opened his eyes as the winds begin to roar. Down the long hall that leads to his cell he sees the walls start to crumble, black smoke crept in poured around him and the bars to his cell shook, but held fast. The Curse wasn't coming for the bars, only for him.

He was afraid. So terribly afraid he thought he might cry. But as the sound began to fade around him, he turned his back to peer into the place he'd left his parchment. Be brave. He had to be just as brave as Bae had been, just as Belle had been. He wanted to make them proud. This was the plan all along, if he didn't do this last thing with the magic he had then all was lost.

Heart pounding, he cast a spell in less time than it took the Curse to reach him; the name Emma echoed in his mind when all sound disappeared and the world around him began to fade into nothing.

He'd succeeded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, welcome to the end. I really hope that you enjoyed this story! The next story in The Dark One Chronicles is called The Chronicles of the Dark One: Storybrooke, Maine. It covers everything from the moment the Dark Curse is cast and delivers everyone to Storybrooke, ending with Emma's arrival and Rumple awakening from the curse. 
> 
> Of course, if you liked what you read please give kudos or comments! I love getting those wonderful little gems in my inbox and communicating with the people reading on a personal level. And if you want to read more (and review more), please check out any of the other fictions in The Dark One Chronicles. For more information on The Dark One Chronicles, The Moments Series, upcoming fictions, posting and publishing dates, or a reading order check out my profile for updates. Peace and Happy Reading!


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